


Here on the Hill, Halfway Up Halfway Down

by lls_mutant



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-15
Updated: 2010-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the attacks, Felix Gaeta knew Brother Cavil as the chaplain on the <i>Galactica.</i>  On New Caprica, Cavil became an ideal source of information, and Felix was willing to do what he had to do to get it.  But how deeply can you entangle someone in a web without catching yourself as well?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crawl In My Head and Rifle My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Written before viewing the Plan, but after reading spoilers. After checking BSG wiki, I'm very annoyed to find out that Cavil came aboard at a different time- I'd assumed he was the chaplain on _Galactica_ from the series. Oh well, what the frak, it's an AU anyway. The title and the chapter titles are stolen from a song called "The Company" by Fish.

Felix moved his rook into place. "Check."

Brother Cavil's eyebrows shot up. "How did I miss that?" he asked. He rested his chin on his hand and studied the board intently.

It was quiet in the small chaplain's office, with only the tick of the clock and their own breathing. It felt worlds away from _Galactica_. The shelves were crowded with books and papers, and Brother Cavil's desk was an organized sort of mess. The furniture didn't match; the chair Felix sat in was battered and red and plush, the chair that Cavil used was a dark orange and far more streamlined. A few religious pictures were on the wall, but Cavil had once told Felix that symbols were a substitute for faith.

"I honestly don't think I can see any way out of this," Cavil said, and sighed. "The best I can do is take your knight."

Felix moved his rook into place. "Checkmate," he said, not trying to contain his smirk. "Do you want to play again?"

Cavil glanced at the clock and shrugged. "I'm willing," he agreed. "I'd complain about losing, but honestly, that's the reason I like playing with you. You're the only one on this boat who gives me a run for my money."

It sounded arrogant, but it wasn't. Felix figured he probably won about forty percent of their games- Cavil was the toughest opponent he'd ever found. But then, he'd stopped even trying to play chess on _Galactica_ long ago, due to no one wanting to play. As Helo said, if the tactical officer couldn't win at chess, then they all had some pretty big problems. Plus, you couldn't bet on it, so interest was nil.

"Are you ready for the decommissioning?" Cavil asked as they rearranged their pieces.

"I am, although it's hard to believe that it's really happening. The _Galactica_ has been in service longer than I've been alive."

"Well, you don't have to rub it in," Cavil said, moving a pawn. "What are you going to do next?"

"My orders are planetside," Felix admitted. "I'm not thrilled about it, but at least I'll be able to work on my degree."

"Bioengineering, am I right?"

"Yes." Felix smiled and moved his own pawn. "I'm impressed that you remembered."

"It's not _that_ hard," Cavil said. "Speaking of things that aren't hard, have you given any thought about coming to this week's service?"

Felix studied the chess pieces with more intensity than they required. "I've given it thought."

Cavil leaned forward eagerly. "Look, I'm not asking you to believe in anything. I can't convince you- you're going to have to come to your conclusions on your own. But I think that attending a service might give you a little peace and comfort."

"Or make me want to jump out an airlock."

"You can stand it for an hour without a suicide attempt, I'm certain. Check."

Felix sighed. "All right," he said. "I'll go."

Cavil smiled and moved his bishop. "Checkmate."

***

He went to the service and sat in the back, listening quietly. He told himself he felt out of place and awkward, but the truth was he didn't. There was something about the service that felt a little like home.

"There now," Brother Cavil said when the service was over and he caught Felix at the door. "You came, and you didn't jump out of an airlock."

Felix laughed. "I guess," he said.

"Did you get anything out of it?"

Felix pressed his lips together and shrugged. The truth was he only felt more confused, because despite his anger and all the logic he could throw at it, a part of him _wanted_ to believe in the gods. But he couldn't say that, especially with all of the other servicemen milling around.

Cavil patted his shoulder. "Well, nothing ever happens overnight," he said. "Keep coming."

"I don't have a lot of free time," Felix temporized.

"Unless it's to play chess in my office. One service isn't going to solve anything," Cavil said. "You and I both know that you're not the type of person to walk in and see some sort of mystical sign. It's going to take work on your part, and on mine. But if you keep coming, it will get easier."

"I don't know…" Felix temporized.

"Keep coming," Cavil repeated. "You've already walked through the door and the world didn't end. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Yeah," Felix muttered. "We'll see." He smiled politely and then ducked out the door. He left the small room that served as a chapel with a feeling of relief. The incense gave him a headache, the floor made his knees ache, and as he read the responses out loud, he couldn't help the feeling that it was all dumb and meant for show. But something told him he'd be back next week.

***

He was wrong, and so was Cavil. Felix had entered a church, and the world _did_ end. Five days after the first service he attended, the Cylons attacked the Colonies. And there was no time for spiritual quandaries anymore- only for work.

***

"You look exhausted," Brother Cavil said when Felix entered his study. But he pulled the chess board out anyway. "Have you slept?"

"I'm fine," Felix denied. "I've just got an additional duty."

"Oh? You weren't working enough?" Brother Cavil began to set out the pieces. "What joyous duty does Adama have you doing now?"

Felix flushed. "It's nothing."

Cavil smirked. "Nothing you're supposed to talk about. But does it have to do with the doctor I saw you shadowing in the corridors the other day?"

Felix picked up the black pieces and began to set them up, not looking at Cavil. "It's odd," he finally said. "I've admired Dr. Baltar for so long… and I never, ever thought I'd get the chance to meet him." He huffed a laugh. "I know it sounds strange."

"I've heard stranger," Cavil said.

"It's just the coincidence," Felix insisted. "I guess it would be like you meeting the head of your order."

"I've met him," Cavil said. "And quite frankly, he's a pompous windbag full over over-the-top ideals that don't take into account human nature."

"Oh. Well-"

"But I understand respecting someone, meeting someone who has accomplished much more than you could ever dream," Cavil said. He held up a finger. "And I also understand the disappointment when that shine gets ripped away and you see their faults and weaknesses behind their image."

Felix nodded. "There's no disappointment," he insisted. "What bothers me is that the world just ended. We've all lost everything. And yet, I can't stop the feeling that this is the best thing that's ever happened to me, to be able to work with Dr. Baltar."

"And you think that you're important enough that if you spend all of your days miserable, that will somehow change the fate of humanity," Cavil observed. "The human mind can only cope with so much. It's really very limited in its way, and humans have a tendency to shut out grief after a while. You are still alive, and you are still carrying on. And you need to accept that."

Felix studied their pieces, not willing to look up at Cavil. "It's hard to."

"Yes, it's hard to. But when has anything worth doing been easy?"

"I guess," Felix said, still not looking up. It was hard to let himself think about what had happened to the Colonies, or the grief would overwhelm him. Even now, his hand was shaking as he moved the pawn.

"Look, Felix," Cavil said, leaning in and covering Felix's shaking hand with his own. "You can grieve and you can mourn, and that's all right and human. But at the same time, you're still _alive_, and you need to live. You have no idea of how much longer you've got."

***

"Did you hear?" Dee asked him as they both undressed for their showers.

"Hear what?" Felix said. "It seems I've been giving you the news lately."

"You are never going to stop being smug about that, are you?" Dee asked. "You know the chaplain, Brother Cavil?"

"Yeah," Felix said. He paused in squirming out of his pants. "He didn't have a heart attack or something, did he?"

"Hardly," Dee laughed scornfully. "I don't think Cylons can have heart attacks, can they?"

"What does that have to do- oh, frak me! You're kidding," Felix said, feeling sick.

"Not at all," Dee said, shaking her head and letting her hair down. "Another copy came up with Starbuck and her crew. Chief recognized him."

Brother Cavil was a Cylon. There was a sharp, metallic taste in his mouth, and Felix swallowed angrily.

"You okay, Felix?" Dee asked.

"Yeah. It's just…"

"You were going to his services," Dee remembered.

"Just every now and then," Felix said. He grabbed his soap and his towel. "I really need a shower," he said, and darted away before Dee could ask any more questions.

The hot water felt good, and he told himself that it was no big deal. He wasn't _close_ to Cavil, and just because he'd gone to a few services didn't mean that this was yet another betrayal by the gods or just one more proof they didn't exist. He closed his eyes and let the water splash on his face, and it washed away the tears that he couldn't even acknowledge to himself.

***

It didn't bother him. It didn't bother him. Brother Cavil was a Cylon, and it didn't bother him.

He repeated his mantra every now and then, at odd times. In the shower, at his station, in bed at night. He couldn't let it bother him, because then that would mean that he'd have to think about what that meant in terms of his own beliefs.

Of course, Cavil would have told him that the gods didn't play everything out, they left humans to decide on their own. But then, Cavil probably didn't even _believe_ in the gods, so what good was his advice on religion?

If he thought about it too hard, Felix's head started to hurt.

But when he stood in the middle of the room where they were tallying the votes, staring at the ballots from the _Zephyr_ and realizing that these were not the ones that were supposed to be in use, he had a moment where he desperately wished he could talk it over with Brother Cavil, and seek his advice.

It was only a momentary pang; after all, there wouldn't have been time for long consultations and debates. He had to make his decision _now_, and there was really only one right answer. He knew the answer, deep within his soul.

But he still wished he could have had that support.

***

The world had already ended once, and Felix had thought that things were as bad as they could get. He'd never counted on the Cylons finding them on New Caprica, or the look on the One's face when he saw Felix standing behind Baltar's desk.

The One recognized him, and Felix was pretty sure that there was no way that could be good.

***

"Gaeta."

Felix froze, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he hunched over his desk. "Yes… sir?"

Cavil stood over him. It was the first time one of the Ones had addressed him since they'd walked into the Presidential Office yesterday, announcing that everything Felix had hoped for New Caprica was officially over. The bile rose in the back of his throat and he forced it down.

"You know me." Cavil sat down on his desk, grinning down at Felix. It was not a happy smile.

"I knew a Brother Cavil on _Galactica_, yes," Felix said.

"Like I said, you know me." Cavil's grin deepened. "And I know you. Quite well. And I'm here because you and I, we're going to get something straight."

"We are, sir?" Felix asked, still not looking up.

Cavil grabbed him by the hair, twisting it and tilting Felix's face up. Felix bit down on his lip, willing himself to stay calm. "We are," Cavil told him. "There will be no thrilling heroics from you. Now, I know you and I know damn well that threatening _you_ won't stop you. But I also know where your weakness is. If you harm us, we kill Gaius Baltar. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Felix said. His heart began beating again. Gaius Baltar had handed them over to the Cylons. Gaius Baltar had destroyed New Caprica. Gaius Baltar had betrayed everything Felix had fought for, all of the honor and right and hope that the election that had almost been stolen was meant to guard. If Cavil killed Gaius Baltar, Felix would sleep fine that night. But he could never know that.

Cavil studied him a little longer and then released him, thrusting him away hard. "All right," he said. "Just so we're clear. And just to show you I'm not joking…." A blow landed across Felix's cheek, sending him sprawling out of his chair and onto the floor. "Believe me," Cavil said as he paused at the door, "I can do a lot worse than that."

Felix put a hand to his mouth and saw the blood on his fingers. He nodded, not looking at Cavil. There was absolutely no reason not to believe him.

***

"What do you expect me to do?" the man sitting in front of Felix's desk demanded. "My wife is literally eating for two. She's nursing. The amount of food that we're being given- with no opportunity to earn more- just isn't enough."

Felix sighed, trying to control his temper as they went around this circle yet again. "I will put your petition through, and I will make sure it comes to the attention of-"

"It's not attention that we need! It's food!" The man stood up, glaring down at Felix. "Not that you would understand that. Collaborators get to eat. Thanks for nothing." He stormed out of the office.

Felix sighed, and looked down at the paperwork in front of him, trying to control his shaking hands. _Go after him,_ some part of him whispered. _Offer to share your rations._ But that would only work for one family, and there were hundreds without enough to eat. He buried his face in his hands.

"Are you all right?"

"No," Felix said, not looking up, and then froze. He knew that voice.

"I'm not going to kill you for admitting you're having a bad day," the One said.

Felix put his hands down cautiously. The One standing in front of him was wearing a brown leather jacket and a brown hat, unlike the majority of the Ones that wore black. "I'm all right, sir," he said. "I'll get back to work." He picked up his pen again.

But the One didn't leave. "You know," he said conversationally, still standing against the door, "I understand you're a very good chess player."

"I'm all right."

"No, you're better than all right. When a Cylon downloads, their memories are deposited into a data storage bank, and accessible to us all. I wasn't on the _Galactica_, but I have those memories, and you're a damn good chess player."

Felix wasn't sure how to answer that. There were two ways this conversation could go; one of them bad, and the other way very, very, very bad. He sat silently, waiting for Cavil to say more.

Cavil sighed. "I don't suppose you feel like a game?"

Felix swallowed, trying not to exhale in relief. Not an accusation, then, although he hadn't done much to warrant one. Yet. Once he had information… which maybe he could get if he cultivated a friendship with this One.

The idea made him recoil, and it was only with a will of steel and years of training that he sat still. Not yet. He wasn't that desperate yet. "I have a lot of work to do," he said carefully. "I probably should attend to that."

"I figured." The One pushed away from the door. "But if you ever feel like it, I really wouldn't mind a good game. There's not much else of interest on this mudball."

He left, and Felix exhaled slowly. Then he picked up his pen, and tried to set about untangling the mess of rations and petitions and pleas.

***

It didn't bother him that he never said much at work. He existed in that office as a function, as a mouthpiece for the Cylons. They gave orders, but they weren't exactly the type to ask about your day. And Gaius avoided him the best that he could, which suited Felix just fine. Honestly, the less he said at work, the better.

But when he left _Colonial One_, he found that he was having just as little to say then, too. At one time he'd be able to go to the bar tent and have a drink with any number of former _Galactica_ soldiers. Now when he entered, the place didn't go silent, but a lot more backs turned to him. He used to have dinner with Galen and Cally¸ but Galen had barely spoken to him since Felix had refused to leave his job in the government. He understood it- if he didn't know why he kept his job, he'd hate himself, too. Frak, some days he _did_ hate himself, because he hadn't managed to actually _do_ anything.

But when he got home one night and realized that he literally had not said a word all day, he wished desperately it could all somehow be different.

***

The wind was cold and the night was dark, but Felix just turned the jacket collar up and pulled on a hat. His own tent felt claustrophobic tonight, and he needed to get _out_. The chill kept people inside their tents, and there was one place Felix knew he could go and be alone at this hour.

Around the settlement there were playgrounds set up for the children. Felix remembered helping to build one, back in the days when everything about New Caprica seemed exciting and new and promising. Now he settled on a swing, and the chains rattled in the wind and made the most desolate sound he'd ever heard. He swung back and forth a little, his feet dragging over the frozen mud.

"Odd place to be spending an evening."

Felix looked up. It was the One that had come into his office two days ago, or at least, he assumed so. The clothing was the same, anyway. He shrugged. "It's not curfew yet."

"No, it's not." The One sat down on the swing beside him. "Felix Gaeta. The young officer that played chess with the chaplain. You lost your father to cancer, your mother to senility, and your brother on account of him being a general asshole. You've never admitted to your obsession with Gaius Baltar, but it was painfully obvious. And at last check, you still weren't sure if you believed in the gods, but you had started attending services."

'Thanks for the update," Felix snapped before he could stop himself. But the One just smiled. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Can't say I blame you."

"What? For snapping?"

"For not being sure if you believe in the gods."

"Oh." Felix snorted. Despite himself, he heard himself saying, "Do you?"

"Never believed in gods. One God, maybe. I can concede the possibility, as unlikely as I find it. But I do wonder how so many humans could be so gullible as to believe in something so strongly, and then I turn around and see my own kind believing much the same thing… maybe there's something to it, and we're just missing it."

"Or maybe people are desperate to believe anything that gives them hope and comfort," Felix offered.

The One's eyes bored into him. "Maybe."

They fell silent for a long moment. Felix knew he should get up and go, but the truth was he was tired and this One was the only one who was speaking to him like he was human these days. He looked down, tracing patterns on the dirt with his toe.

"You know," the One finally said, looking up at the sky, "the Cylons are not altogether happy with the way this whole new society is forming."

"I know," Felix said glumly. "Can't say the humans are overjoyed, either."

"So I'm gathering. Might be better for everyone if the Cylons just went on their way."

Felix's head snapped up. "Are they going to?"

"Admit defeat?" The One was scornful. "You should know better than that. They'll never actually admit it. Most of the Ones are clamoring to drop a nuke on the whole lot of you and just be done with it."

The words turned his stomach, but he couldn't help asking, "Why don't you?"

The One shrugged. "The other models truly believe that God would view it as a sin. Don't know why it matters so much now, and why the act of not killing forty thousand of you will save their asses from eternal hellfire after killing twenty billion of you, but there you go. They don't want to do it, and the Ones are outvoted."

"You say the Ones," Felix said, cautiously. "Last time I checked…"

The One leaned back on the swing, starting the motion a bit. "Well, yes. There is that. Frankly, I don't care if we nuke you all or you all go free. I've done the math, and eventually your species will die out anyway. But I don't want this division in the Cylons, and want off this mudball of a planet that you all have dragged us to."

"Well, at least you have a shot of getting what you want." Felix pushed off the swing. "It's late," he said, without looking at his watch, "and I need to be in early tomorrow. Good night."

He half expected the One to stop him, but the One just nodded. "Good night," he said, working the swing higher.

It was the oddest sight in the world, a One on a child's swing. Felix shook his head, pulled up his jacket collar, and headed back towards his tent.

***

"Collaborator!"

The mud hit him on his shoulder. Felix tried to ignore it, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and picking up his pace. The watery sunshine did nothing to warm the air, and his nose was freezing. He tried to focus on those facts rather than the mud on his jacket.

Another mudball hit him in the hip. _It's just mud_, he reminded himself. _Just mud. No big deal, it will wash right off… just mud._ There were some words that went with it, but he closed his ears to them.

Then something hit his temple, and the side of his head exploded in pain.

He tried to orient himself and was vaguely aware of people around him, someone tugging on his arm and a punch to the gut that wasn't as bad as the deliverer intended. There was shouting and anger and hate, but more than anything there was a roaring in his ears and the feeling that he was going to be sick. Nothing made sense, everything spun, and he was fairly certain that these humans were going to kill him right here, right now, and maybe that wouldn't be so bad….

"Hold up!"

Guns fired, but no one fell. Everything stilled.

"What the frak is going on here? Attacking a member of the government? Are you all insane?" A pause. "Take them to the detention center."

"No," Felix tried to say, but his mouth wouldn't work, and a part of him didn't want to try _that_ hard anyway. Instead, he felt his assailants being yanked away, and without their support he fell to his hands and knees in the mud.

A strong hand grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. Felix looked up and saw the brown leather jacket and hat of the One who'd found him on the swings a few nights ago. He tried to pull away, but the One's grip on his arm was firm, and he was too dizzy and sick to put up much of a fight.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go get you taken care of."

Felix half-expected the One to lead him to the hospital tent, but instead the One led him to _Colonial One._ But rather than going to Felix's office, the One led him into a different office. The office was cluttered by Cylon standards; notes and books on the desk, religious artifacts and items that Felix couldn't make sense of. The One pushed Felix into a chair, and rummaged about in his desk.

"Hold still," he ordered, pressing a wadded up shirt to Felix's head. The shirt had a clean scent to it, but something more as well. The smell of… he couldn't place it, but it reminded him of home and his bed when he was a boy, and rainy mornings. The One was watching him with concern. Felix looked up at him.

"Thank you," he said grudgingly.

The One nodded. Not for the first time, Felix wondered why a Cylon had evolved into the form of an older man. If he could pick a form, wrinkles and nosehair probably wouldn't figure into it. He tried to shake his head at the ridiculous thought, but the One's hands were firm and he kept Felix's head steady.

"I don't know why you're doing this," Felix said, more to break the silence. "You don't even like me."

"You assume an awful lot," the One informed him. "Like I said, I remember you. You're… interesting."

There was an expression on the One's face that it took Felix a moment to recognize, but when he cut through the way he associated this face with cruelty he saw it. Gentleness. It scared him in an odd sort of way, because he found himself responding to that kindness, leaning into the firm touch that was stanching the flow of blood from his head. The One's eyes widened as Felix leaned against his hand, but he didn't move away. Instead, he ran one thumb over Felix's cheek. Felix closed his eyes, hungry for the touch and trying to ignore who it was coming from.

It was the One that pulled away first, and the absence of his hand left a chill on Felix's cheek. He opened his eyes and looked up, but the One was simply letting the pressure up and studying the wound on Felix's temple.

"It looks like the bleeding stopped," he said. "You'll still need to be concerned about a concussion, though."

"It's early in the day," Felix pointed out. "I'm not planning on going to sleep any time soon."

"Actually, it's not. It's just after three o'clock."

"No, it's not. It's morning," Felix insisted. The One picked up Felix's wrist and showed him the watch. Just after three o'clock. Felix blinked, staring at it hard. "I could have sworn… "

"Symptom of concussion- confusion. You got hit in the head with a rock, Felix. Don't argue with me."

Felix nodded. "I should try to work," he said. "There are things I need to get done… reports and…."

"You think you're really going to accomplish anything right now?" The One reached out and touched Felix's cheek again, just the pads of his fingers brushing over the skin. Just a soft touch, curious in nature, but deliberate all the same.

"I should try," Felix insisted.

The One sighed. "All right. Go get your work and bring it in here."

"In here?" Felix asked.

"In here. That way, once you admit you can't concentrate, I can beat you in chess." The One pointed to the corner, and Felix saw a chess board. It looked a lot like the set that had been in Cavil's office on the _Galactica_, but he was fairly certain it couldn't be the same one.

"All right." But when Felix tried to stand up, he found that he was most definitely dizzy and his legs felt like they were made of cotton. He wobbled dangerously, and then the One helped him sit down again.

"Ready for that chess game?" the One asked.

Felix sighed. "I guess so." He watched silently as the One pulled a table over, brought the board over, and began to set up the pieces.

"Do you have a name?" Felix asked suddenly.

The One looked up. "A name?"

"Yes. What do I call you?"

The One shrugged. "Cavil."

"But that was-"

"I know. But the Ones all use the same name. John Cavil." He sighed. "If it really makes you feel better about it, I suppose you could call me John."

There was a look on his face like he didn't particularly care for the name. Felix wasn't sure what to make of that. But he said, "All right," and the One- Cavil, John, whatever, it made Felix's head hurt worse- smiled.

***

"I'll be okay," Felix insisted. "It's been hours, and I'm feeling better."

"All right," John said. "If you insist. I can't stop you." He held his hands up in surrender. "But if you die in your sleep, don't blame me."

"If I die, I won't be able to blame you," Felix said with a wry smile. "I'll be fine." He looked out the window of John's office. The sky was darkening already, and the lights of the settlement were coming on. He remembered how once he'd looked out over those lights and imagined that they were stars that had fallen to the ground. It was ridiculous and sounded like something his ninth grade self would have written when he'd fancied himself a poet, but he'd liked the image. Now it looked more like a prison camp. He looked away.

"I'll be fine," he repeated. He picked up his coat. "Thanks for the games," he said, pulling the coat on. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Felix?"

He paused. "Yes?"

"Be careful," John said. It sounded sincere.

It was such a strange thing to hear from a Cylon. Felix nodded, swallowing hard. "I will," he said. "Thank you."

He walked home through the darkness, hands shoved in his pockets, speaking to no one. He noticed how people crossed the street to avoid him, how people looked away from his eyes or glared at him, hatred written across their faces.

_I'm not like that,_ he wanted to scream at them all. _I'm trying to help. I'm trying to figure this out! I know that if I just hang in there, I'll come up with something._ But what good would it do? For all his good intentions, he'd done nothing so far.

Why was that? he wondered. Too scared? Too comfortable in his position? Maybe, but he didn't think so. Dying… he could think of worse things. Hell, he was _living_ worse things. No, the problem was more that he couldn't figure out what to do, how he could be most effective. When the Cylons had landed, he'd thought he would be able to juggle paperwork, to help people… but none of that had come to fruition.

He entered his tent, grateful to be out of the wind. He lit the lamp and sat down on his bed, back among the familiarity of his own home. It was safe in here… well, as safe as he could be. He suddenly realized that all that was keeping others from him was a thick sheet of canvas, and that was really no protection at all. He drew a deep breath. Things hadn't gotten that bad. Not yet.

And yet, he'd spent the afternoon playing chess with a Cylon. If things weren't that bad, they were getting close.

He flopped down into the chair and stared at his desk moodily. Well over a month of occupation, and nothing. No Adama, no rising up… well, no. There _had_ been people fighting. He'd heard about the resistance movement, seen dead skinjobs, heard the occasional explosion. But what good was any of that against an immortal enemy? Of course, the mortal ones… he touched the wound on his temple.

The frustrating thing was that he was theoretically in a position to _do something_. He was inside _Colonial One_. If the Cylons had been human, he'd be able to pick up information and pass it to the humans. But the Cylons _weren't_ human, and so everything confidential was stored on a network that he had no access to, not written on scraps of paper and lying around. What he needed was a way for the Cylons to trust him more, to start giving him more…. His fingers drifted down from his temple to his cheek.

_No._ His stomach churned and he tried to push the thought away, but it was already there. What if that _was_ the One's interest in him? And what if he allowed it to continue? He could almost imagine slipping out of bed and finding… finding… well, papers meant for Baltar. They had to communicate with Baltar through means that Felix could read as well.

Of course, his mind said, the more logical thing to do would be to go for _Baltar_. But whatever connection they had had, the Cylons in the abstract and Caprica Six in the specific had severed that. There was no way Felix could get that kind of contact with Gaius. Not any more.

He emptied a packet of soup into a mug and began to heat it on the hot plate. It smelled better than it would taste, and for a moment he was able to close his eyes and try to imagine himself back home on Picon. He was on the top bunk again, doing his homework, his older brother on the bottom bunk as he played a video game. Their mother singing as she made soup and their father coming in the door, complaining that he needed a shower before dinner, because the grease would stain everything. But even before the Cylons had come, that had all been destroyed, and now that life seemed completely unreal to him.

The soup was ready. He picked up the mug and sat at his table, going over the rationing lists carefully and trying to catch up on the work he'd missed this afternoon. It was dull, tedious work that gave him a headache under the best of circumstances, and by the time he pushed away his head was throbbing.

There was a knock on his tent pole, and he jerked to his feet. Even before he flipped open the tent, he knew who it was.

"I just wanted to make sure you're all right," John said, without any preamble.

Felix nodded. "I'm fine," he said. And then, because it was what you said, "Do you want to come in?"

John did, stomping his feet, rubbing his hands together and looking around. "It's not much," he said with some surprise. "Why don't you stay on _Colonial One_?"

"None of the staff do, except for Baltar himself," Felix said. "That's the way it's always been."

John was looking around, and Felix realized that even the _Galactica_ copy had never actually seen his quarters before. It was a strange feeling. John gravitated towards a book that Felix had lying on the crate next to his bed, picking it up. "_We the Living_," he read. "What's it about?"

Felix shrugged. "It's sort of a combination of an autobiographical novel and a philosophical one," he explained. "About a woman escaping from Sagittaron right before the Labor Battles."

"I've heard of it," John said. "There was a man on Caprica who was reading it."

"You were on Caprica?" Felix asked.

John nodded, looking at Felix a bit oddly. "I came up to _Galactica_ with the Resistance," he said. "Before your President at the time airlocked me."

"Oh."

"It was very interesting, to watch the humans there," John admitted. "I really underestimated just what humans were willing to do to survive."

"Guess so," Felix said glumly.

"You think I mean that badly," John said.

"Don't you?"

"On the contrary. Not all survival is cutthroat. I saw amazing acts of forgiveness and selflessness. It was… educational."

"Mmm."

John turned the book over again, studying the cover. "Do you mind if I borrow this?"

Felix wasn't fond of lending out one of the few books he owned, but given that the "request" was coming from a One, and he wasn't positive it was a request anyway, he shrugged. "Sure. Be my guest."

"I'll return it," John said with a little smile. "When I lived with the humans, I also learned the value of books to you people." He slipped the book into his jacket and then headed for the exit. But as he passed Felix, he stopped. His eyes fastened on Felix's face, and for a moment, Felix couldn't quite breathe. John cupped his cheek, the gesture bolder this time, his thumb rubbing over Felix's skin. Felix held still, and as he did John met his eyes. John's eyes were dark, and they looked conflicted and sad. Despite himself, Felix found himself drawn in.

John pulled his hand away abruptly. "I'll get your book back to you tomorrow," he said, and he slipped out of the tent.

Felix watched him go, his cheek still warm from his touch.

***

It wasn't hard to find Sam Anders, not when Felix had all the records of New Caprica at his disposal. Felix found him at the building site that was eventually meant to be the hospital, digging.

When Felix approached, Sam's face turned white and he stopped. "You found Kara?" he said before Felix could say a word.

Felix's heart sank. "No," he said. "I've been trying, but I still haven't heard anything."

Sam sighed heavily. "What do you want then?" he asked. But it wasn't quite as caustic as it might have been coming from anyone else.

"There was a One with you on Caprica," Felix said. Sam nodded and started digging again. "What was he like?"

"Wouldn't have guessed he was a Cylon, that's for sure," Sam said. "He seemed like a good guy."

"A good guy," Felix repeated.

"Yeah. Look," Sam said, stopping again and leaning on his shovel, "I didn't know he was a Cylon then, okay? Which is more of an excuse than you have for whatever reason you're asking."

"I'm not-" Felix began. He cut off, expecting Sam to interrupt him, but Sam didn't. He just stood, watching Felix silently.

"You're not what?" Sam said.

"I'm not…" for a wild moment, Felix wanted to tell Sam what he was thinking, what he was doing. He was _positive_ Sam was part of whatever resistance group was making things happen, and if he had a connection to them, it could only be for the good.

Until one of them was captured and tortured, and gave up the other. And then not only would they both be dead, but everything they accomplished together would be lost.

The fleeting daydream of a camaraderie and shared effort exploded as quickly as it formed, and Felix heaved a huge sigh. "I'm not asking for any reason like that," he said carefully. "But that copy has been… around me a lot. I'm trying to figure some things out."

"Let me clue you in quickly, then," Sam said as he turned back to his digging. "Don't trust a Cylon. End of line."

"I didn't say I wanted to trust him," Felix snapped back, although that was pretty much what he'd meant. He considered it. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you trust him?"

Sam shook his head. "Look, I don't really want to answer that right now."

"Why not?"

"Because the truth is I did trust him, and as far as I know he didn't frak us over. I don't know you well, but from what Kara told me you're gonna take that and twist it and think you can trust this Cylon for whatever reason you've got in your head, and you can't. And if you weren't a frakking collaborator, you wouldn't even have to ask me the question."

"I see," Felix said stiffly. "Thank you." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away. "I appreciate your time," he said angrily.

"Gaeta!" Sam called after him. Felix turned. There was a strange look on Sam's face that almost looked like sympathy. "Whatever you're doing," he said, "be careful, will you? I mean… you're still human."

Felix nodded. "Yeah. You too."

***

The book was on his desk, placed perfectly in the center. And there was a note on it as well.

_Fascinating. If you would like, come by tonight. There are points I wish to discuss with you._

_132B._

_-JC_

Felix stared at the note for a long, long time, and then crumpled it in his hand.

***

The Cylon complex loomed in front of him. It was originally intended to be the first apartment complex for humans on New Caprica, but the occupation had seen it put to other uses. Half detention center, half Cylon residential section, all concrete and barbed wire. Felix gulped and looked around. It was dark, and he couldn't see any humans lingering by the gates. Nevertheless, he adjusted his hat and turned up his coat collar, and hurried inside the gates swiftly. The Centurions must have been ordered to expect him, because they moved aside without a word.

The inside looked like an apartment building. Felix tried to swallow, but his throat wasn't quite working. He did find it odd that it looked so… human. He wondered what the inside of a baseship looked like, if it was like being on the _Galactica_ or _Cloud 9_ or any of the other ships he'd set foot on. Or if they all slept in coffins. That was probably more along the lines of what he really envisioned, wasn't it?

132B. He hesitated, drew a deep breath, and then knocked on the door.

The door opened swiftly, and John smiled at him. "Good," he said, stepping back to let Felix come in, "you did come. I was hoping you would."

Felix stepped in. The apartment was small and furnished. He stared at the brown couch for a long time.

"Is something wrong?" John asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Centurions make furniture?" Felix asked.

John rolled his eyes. "We confiscated some of the items we needed," he said. "You know that." Felix nodded silently, and wondered what ship that worn brown couch had come off of and whose tent it had been in before John claimed it for his own. He pulled his eyes away from it and looked around. There was a table, largely covered in papers, a stack of books, and a small… not quite kitchen, but cooking area. It dawned on Felix that he was smelling something.

"Have you eaten?" John asked him.

"No," Felix said, still looking around.

"I thought you might not have. Have a seat. We can eat while we talk." Felix started to sink down into the chair, but John caught him by the elbow. He smiled, a sarcastic bent to the expression. "You could take your coat and hat off," he suggested.

Felix flushed. "Of course," he murmured. He started to take the coat off, but John helped him. Felix wondered if he was imagining it that John's hand lingered on his shoulder, but he was pretty sure he wasn't. "So you liked the book?" he asked John,.

"I said I found it fascinating," John said, hanging Felix's coat in a closet. "I didn't say I liked it." He closed the closet door and went over to the stove, busying himself there. "I found the glorification of the atheist viewpoint refreshing, however. That's not something I found a lot in human literature."

"No?" Felix tried to think. "You're right," he finally admitted. "You were a brother on Caprica, weren't you?"

John turned back to face Felix. "Been asking about me?"

Felix shrugged. "I think I knew that already. It's interesting. You've told me you don't believe in God or the gods, and yet both Ones I've known have posed as religious figures."

"Well, people are more vulnerable around religion," John said. "I would have thought you would have figured that out by now."

He had. Felix shrugged and sat in silence, and John placed a plate in front of him. He stared down at it. Although he couldn't deny that he ate better than many people in the settlement, the steak, mushrooms, and potato in front of him was a rare treat. "I guess I did," Felix said, not picking up his silverware. "I just… I didn't…."

"You didn't expect me to say it so baldly," John said. He settled down across from Felix with a plate for himself. This felt comfortable and familiar, like the chaplain's study back on _Galactica_, and Felix relaxed a bit. "But it's the truth." John cut a piece of meat. "The thing is, on Caprica…" he considered the meat speared on his fork. "It was my first time around humans. My model line has been particularly vehement in their dislike for your race, but I find them…" he made a face. "Every now and then I have a revelation about the nature of humans."

"I see." It was awkward trying to hold a conversation, because Felix wasn't sure what the frak he was supposed to say here. He also was trying to look at the papers on the table without making it obvious he was looking. "What sort of revelation?"

John paused in his eating, and Felix had the distinct impression he'd asked the wrong question. He looked down at his plate. "So… the book?" he stammered.

"Ah, yes. That book." The rest of dinner passed in conversation… or more accurately, John lecturing and Felix answering with what he thought John wanted to hear. Not total agreement- Felix had figured that out. But just enough argument to be interesting and to spur more monologues without actually putting up too much of a fight. Felix sat on the edge of his chair the entire time, and had to force himself to eat.

"So the book was a favorite of yours?" John asked as they finished.

Felix shrugged. "I borrowed it from Gaius," he confessed. "I'm not sure where he got it from. These days, I'll read just about anything."

"I see." John stood up and took Felix's plate, retreating to the cooking area. Felix glanced at his back and then leaned over, long enough to get a good look at the paper on the top of the pile at John's end of the table. Of course it wasn't classified- it was just a map. But Felix's heart sped up as he looked at it- it was labeled with the Cylon coordinates. He'd been trying to work their system out for a while now, and hadn't been able to crack it. If he had the chance to-

"I thought it might have been a book that you liked," John said, returning to the table. Felix looked up at him, willing his face to appear earnest and questioning. "There was something about the family that reminded me of yours, and you wanting to escape from them."

"Escape…" Felix temporized. "I'm not sure that's the word-"

"Of course it is," John said. He came over so he was standing right in front of Felix. "You told me on the _Galactica_ that you'd worked all your life to be assigned to a battleship, because you were looking for something better. You wanted out of that tenement home, out of the city, out of that genteel poverty that was one step away from trash." He tilted Felix's chin up to face him, and from here, Felix couldn't help but focus on the fact that John had nose hair. He tried to look away, but John's fingers were firm on his chin. "Why else did you stay in the military when your parents needed you home?"

"It wasn't like that," Felix said. "They needed the money and I-"

John raised his eyebrows. "Do you think that I'm judging you?" he asked. "That I expect you to answer to me?"

"You blew us all up," Felix pointed out. "You already _have_ judged us."

John chuckled deep within his throat. "I stand corrected, then," he said. "Come on." He gestured to the couch, and Felix noticed that John had set two glasses of wine on the table. "Join me."

Felix stood up, casting one last glance at that map. If he stayed the night…. John sat, and gestured imperiously for Felix to sit beside him. Felix did, and John put the glass of wine into his hand. Felix drank obediently, and some part of him whispered he hadn't tasted wine this good in over two years.

"You don't look very comfortable," John observed. He cocked his head, studying Felix. "I know you aren't exactly happy with us here, and I know that we've got our figurative foots on your necks, but that's not what's going on here."

"I know," Felix said. And oddly enough, he did. John had made absolutely no demands… hell, aside from a few touches, he hadn't even made _suggestions._ He was looking at Felix now with a bemused expression, still sitting back on the couch sipping his glass of wine. For a moment, it made Felix doubt what John even wanted.

The doubt was erased when John slid a hand along the back of Felix's neck. "I do have to admit, they'd all think I was insane," he said, rubbing gently. "Giving you a chance to say no with no repercussions…."

"That's what this is?" Felix asked.

"That's what this is," John confirmed.

Felix took a deep breath. "I'm not saying no," he said. He set his wine glass down and leaned in.

Kissing a One was… well, it wasn't like what he expected. It felt like kissing anyone else. He thought there might be some tinge of metal, some taste of something synthetic, but if he hadn't known the man he was kissing was a Cylon, he wouldn't have been able to tell. John didn't kiss particularly well, but his hand tightened on the back of Felix's neck, and Felix found himself pulled in.

They found their way to the bed, and the resultant experience wasn't nearly as bad as Felix had been assuming it was going to be. Afterwards, they lay in the bed together, naked and smoking.

"You're going to stay the night," John said.

Felix couldn't tell if it was a question or an order, but he nodded all the same. "I figured."

"Good." John stubbed out his cigarette and slid down into the bed, pulling the covers up over his chest. "I have to admit, you did wear me out," he said. He closed his eyes.

Felix half sat beside him, still smoking his cigarette and concentrating on the curls of the smoke. He had to, because if he let himself think about anything else, he'd have to realize that not only had he just slept with a Cylon, but he hadn't had to fake his enjoyment. The thought made his fingers tremble and his stomach queasy, and he took a long drag of the cigarette to steady himself. It didn't particularly help.

John began to snore. On some level, Felix found that strange. Why make a Cylon that snored? Honestly. They were soft snores, gentle and contented. Felix cautiously eased out of the bed. John didn't move.

He crept over to the table where they'd eaten dinner, his bare feet silent on the floor. The map was still there on the table where it had lain all night, and now he was free to study it. He moved around the table so that he could see properly without actually touching it.

He'd been able to work out bits and pieces of the coordinate system that the Cylons used, but he'd known he was missing some unifying concept. Now, with the map spread out in front of him, he could see it, and the system clicked into place in his mind. He smiled. It might not be big, but it was _something._ Something worth starting with, that would make the memos that passed his desk make a little more sense.

Grinning, he padded back to the bed and slipped under the covers. He couldn't exactly bring himself to snuggle up against John, but when their arms touched, he didn't move away.

***

For once, it wasn't raining. Felix looked at the gray horizon before him with a grim sort of pleasure. Now he just had to figure out how to do this.

The simple way, of course, was to find Sam Anders. Sam was obviously a part of the resistance movement. Felix would put money on Galen Tyrol or Saul Tigh as well, but instinct told him that Anders would be more amenable to Felix's overtures. But it didn't matter, because he wasn't going to approach Sam. If Sam knew what he was doing and if he was captured, or if _Felix_ was caught…. Felix would never blame a man for breaking under torture, but he'd rather that neither of them had anything to give if they were caught.

So no one could know, and he couldn't know who was getting the messages. He waited outside the water reclamation plant, his hands buried deep in his pockets, the note clenched in his fingers.

The whistle went off, a loud, lonely sound that echoed through the community and reminded him of his childhood. Felix remembered sitting on a wall with his brother, listening for that sound eagerly, waiting for their father to come home. The memory came back to him forcefully as he stood, waiting for the workers to pass.

He recognized a lot of the faces, although they looked away from him. He steeled himself, keeping his own face impassive as they walked by. Finally, he saw him. Jammer was one of the few people that would still glance at Felix, even if it was from below a lowered hat brow. Felix gestured to him, tilting his head towards the corridor between the tents. He drifted off, and Jammer followed him.

"What are you doing here, Gaeta?" Jammer asked. "These guys, if they see you… you shouldn't come down here."

"I know," Felix whispered. "Listen. I'm not asking if you know anyone in the resistance, okay? I don't want to know. But I know you do. Give this to them." He put a sealed envelope in Jammer's hand.

"What is it?" Jammer asked suspiciously.

"I'm not telling you, and you're not looking. Got it, Specialist?" Felix demanded.

Jammer's eyes lit with incredulous recognition as Felix used his former rank. "Yes, sir."

Felix glanced around, although there was no one to see in their secluded spot. "Don't you open the envelope, okay? Whoever does this, they can't know who I am. Find someone you trust, someone you're dead sure won't betray the Resistance. And then whatever happens, do not act like you know a damn thing. I'm still a collaborator, and you spit on my name. You got it?"

"Yes, sir. But-"

"No buts. That's the way it's going to be," Felix said. He nodded to Jammer and shoved his hands back into his pocket and made his way out of the tents.

"Lieutenant," Jammer called, and Felix couldn't help stopping. "Thank you," he said, holding up the envelope. "For whatever is in here… thank you."

Felix nodded and turned away.

***


	2. Your Insincere Platitutdes

"You look tired," John said when Felix arrived at his door.

"Just a little," Felix lied, forcing a smile. "Long day." He entered the apartment and shrugged off his coat.

"Understatement," John agreed. "Three explosions in one day. We're going to have to do something about that." Felix nodded mutely. "They hauled in Saul Tigh for questioning," John continued casually, pouring them both a glass of wine.

Felix's stomach twisted, but he kept his voice casual. "Tigh?" he asked. "You won't get much out of him."

"No?"

"Tough old bastard," Felix said, and that was most definitely not a lie.

"Well, we have our ways," John said. He handed Felix a glass and then cupped his cheek with his now free hand. It was a gesture that he favored, and Felix actually found some sort of strange comfort in the ritual of it. "Is Saul Tigh in the Resistance?" he asked.

Felix shrugged. "I wouldn't know," he said honestly.

"But your assessment?"

He sighed, because this was one of those things he had to do to preserve his own reputation and position, and it wasn't like he wasn't telling the Cylons anything they didn't know anyway. "I don't know," he repeated, "but I'd be more surprised if he wasn't."

John smiled and kissed Felix. "There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" he asked.

"Why should it be hard?" Felix asked, forcing a smile. "A great society and all of that."

"Mmm." John studied him, and then leaned in and kissed him again. "But why talk about that now?" he asked. "You're here, I'm here, and we're alone." He reached around and rubbed the back of Felix's neck. "Relax," he ordered, "and forget about it." His hand smoothed down Felix's back, pulling Felix's body against his.

Felix responded, setting his glass of wine down on the table and wrapping his arms around John's neck. It worked well enough until John hoisted him up onto the table, and his hip bumped against the wine, spilling it.

"I'm sorry," Felix apologized, as the red wine spread like blood across the table, soaking the papers. John went to the cooking area to retrieve a towel, and Felix picked up the sodden papers. "Do you want me to throw these out?" he asked.

John glanced down and sighed. "They're ruined," he said, mopping up the wine on the table. "I'll have to make more copies for Baltar. Throw them out."

Felix headed towards the trash can, but only put in the top paper, which was so soaked with red wine he wouldn't have been able to read it anyway. He folded the other papers, and then realized that slipping them into his waistband right now was a very bad idea. He glanced over his shoulder, but John was still absorbed in mopping up the wine. He looked , and then put the folded papers into the garbage can, but wedged between the garbage and the can.

"Do you need any help?" he asked John, leaning over his shoulder.

"No, I'm perfectly capable of wiping down a table myself," John said, but there was a little smile at the corner of his mouth that took the sting from his words. He finished and turned around, wrapping his arms around Felix's waist. "Now, where were we?"

"It was just getting good," Felix said, letting John back him up against the table and lift him up again. He kissed John back and let the sensations wash over him, responding almost automatically. But his mind was on the papers in the garbage can the entire time.

***

The garbage dump was dark, and Jake was lying on the ground, his head mournfully between his paws. Felix looked around for Jake's owner, but caught no signs of her. He was grateful as he slipped the notes into the garbage dump and flipped Jake's bowl. The papers that he'd rescued from John's table hadn't contained the most important information ever, but there might be something in there that the Resistance could make use of.

He wondered what the people in the Resistance were doing tonight. It was funny that he could imagine them so clearly, sitting around in one of the tents, huddled over a fire, leaning in and planning. He kicked at a stone moodily.

He knew what he was doing was the right thing to do. Keeping his job, gathering information… and yes, even sleeping with John. After two months of laying the groundwork, it was finally all starting to bear fruit. But it still felt so insignificant, so frakking _slow_. And there was no one he could talk to about it, either.

He headed back to his tent, shivering in the night air. He didn't have long before he was expected at John's, and he still had work to do.

***

"My first?" Felix asked, surprised that John had asked. He considered his cigarette. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," John said. He had pulled the covers up to his waist and turned on his side. The way he was watching Felix made Felix feel like he was under a microscope, or on a stage. No, it made him feel like a pet, especially when John reached out and stroked his hip idly. "From what I understand, humans set a great store by that first sexual experience," John said.

Felix shrugged. "I guess. My first was when I was in Academy. I was nineteen."

"Nineteen?" John raised his eyebrows. "Seems late."

"I guess," Felix said. "But I made up for lost time. He was a teaching instructor, which was a bad idea all around. We didn't get caught, but there were days I almost wished we would." He chewed his lip. He hadn't thought about Neil in years- or, at least, that's what he wanted to believe.

"What went wrong?" John asked. "Why did it end?"

"Two different questions," Felix sighed. "It ended when he broke off with me; there was someone else. But what went wrong…" he shook his head. "You know, I still don't really know how to explain it. I don't think about it often. I think a lot of it had to do with he was a teaching instructor and I was a first year student, and we couldn't get past that. It frakked me up for a long time."

"You never talked to me about that," John said, and there was a look in his eyes that Felix figured meant he was accessing the memories of the _Galactica_ copy. "Interesting. Sex and religion often tend to get mixed up together, so I would have thought he would have found that out."

"Why? Was I a study?" Felix asked, only half-joking.

"Of course," John said. His hand flattened out across Felix's hip, and his fingers seemed heavier against Felix's skin. "And a most interesting one. You still are."

"Should I be offended by that?" Felix asked.

John shrugged, and he seemed very, very far away. Felix was reminded of the look that Neil would get sometimes, that vaguely superior look that made Felix feel like he wasn't quite human. He shivered.

"Are you cold?" John asked, returning to the present.

"No. Just…" Felix forced his mind from it. "So," he asked teasingly, lacing his fingers through John's, "fair's fair. Who was your first?"

John laughed. "For such a smart boy, you can be remarkably stupid at times." Felix raised his eyebrows. "It's you."

"Oh." That was an odd feeling, and Felix wasn't sure if he should be flattered by that or not. "Not for the entire line," he said, his blood running cold.

"No, just for this copy," John said, laughing. Felix suddenly wondered if the Ones all shared this particular data, and every single One knew what it was like to sleep with him. It must have showed on his face, because John laughed and cupped his cheek. "I keep this private," he said. "None of the others know."

"I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to." John leaned in and kissed him. "You have a very expressive face. It's something I really love about you. You make this very easy."

"Mmm." Much later it dawned on Felix he should have asked _what_ he made easy, but for now he rolled under John and concentrated on what he assumed John was referring to.

***

He let himself out of the apartment quietly, eyes on the floor. The last thing he needed was another Cylon catching him leaving a One's apartment.

"Good morning." The voice was female, and he found he stood corrected about the last thing he needed. He jerked around to see Ellen Tigh.

"Good morning," he muttered. Her hair was mussed, and there were hints of lipstick on the edges of her mouth.

"Well, this is awkward, isn't it?" Ellen said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. She was trying to appear casual, but Felix could see that underneath, she was as shaken as he was. "I won't ask what you're doing here if you don't ask me."

Felix shrugged. "I just assumed that you were delivering the morning paper."

Ellen's smile was grateful. "And you're the bagel boy?"

"You got it."

Ellen was measuring him with her eyes. He wasn't sure what she was looking for, but whatever it was, he apparently passed because she smiled again. This time, her smile lacked the sarcasm and was sincere. "Would you like to go get a cup of coffee before you dart off to work?" Ellen asked.

"I have some in my tent, if you would like," Felix said. "You probably don't want a collaborator in your home."

Ellen shrugged. "I'm not going to say no to drinking yours and saving mine," she said. She took Felix's arm. "Lead the way, Mr. Gaeta."

They walked through the settlement together. It was still early enough that everything was quiet, and there were only a few people stirring. But there were Centurions patrolling, and here and there they saw other Cylons- the humanoid ones. They didn't speak until they entered the tent and Felix had the coffee brewing.

"Thank you," Ellen said, as he handed her a cup. She took a sip, closing her eyes gratefully, and then forced that smile again. "So," she said, "why a One? Why not a Four or a Two or even a Five? They're all far more attractive."

"I could ask you the same thing," Felix pointed out. He sat down at the desk with his own mug, gesturing for Ellen to take the bed. She sat down neatly, her legs slanting elegantly from mattress to floor. "But attraction is only required when it's about sex, isn't it?"

Ellen sighed. "I've always been attracted to power," she said, her voice dry as she recited the line flatly.

Felix smirked. "From what I understand, there's an element of truth to that."

Ellen arched her eyebrows. "From what _I_ understand, the same could be said of you."

"Who says that?" Felix asked.

"A little bird told me," Ellen said. "Or an entire flock, as the case may be. You and President Baltar made _very_ entertaining gossip, I've been told. Although I was on the _Galactica_ for the bulk of it." Her eyes looked far away, and it didn't take a genius to guess exactly what- or who- she was thinking about.

Felix set down his mug. "It's about Colonel Tigh, isn't it?" he asked her gently. Ellen shrugged, sipping her coffee. "I'm not stupid," Felix said. "I know he's in detention, and they aren't planning on letting him out any time soon."

Ellen looked up sharply. "Have you tried?" she demanded. Felix couldn't meet her eyes, and she sighed in exasperation. "Well what _are_ you doing then?" she demanded.

"Look," he said, leaning in. "You can ask about Colonel Tigh, because you're his wife. That transcends anything else, no matter what the Colonel has been doing, or how many explosions he's been causing. But if I start asking about someone like that, I might as well just get myself tossed in detention with him. I can't do anything to help the Colonel. And it's not because I'm _scared_ to end up in detention, or even to die."

Ellen cocked her head. "You're planning something big, aren't you?" she said, respect dawning in her voice. "You're…" she began to smile, and Felix's blood ran cold. What had he just done? This was too big a risk, too much…. And Ellen saw it, too.

"No," she said, setting her cup down with a decisive click. "You're saving the hide of your precious President Baltar. They've threatened him, and if you don't… I see." She winked.

"There's no fooling you, is there, Mrs. Tigh?" Felix sighed. "And I understand if you can't associate with such a traitor to the people, who's doing everything he can to protect the President."

Ellen looked so sad. "Probably not in public," she admitted. "But you understand the principles of coffee quite well." She picked her mug back up. "Perhaps I could stop in some mornings?"

Felix smiled. "I think that could be arranged," he said.

***

There was a knock at his office door. Felix looked up. "Come in."

His visitor was human. Felix wasn't sure if that was good or not, these days. Cylons might be the enemy, but the look of disappointment and hate on the humans' faces was hard to bear. And this man was no exception.

"Can I help you?" Felix asked.

"Probably not," the man said with a scowl, "but I'm going to ask anyway." Felix spread his hands in a "go ahead" sort of gesture. "It's my wife," the man said. He slid a piece of paper across the desk to Felix. _Beth McGurk. 001909-74._ "She's gone missing."

"Missing?"

"They're calling it missing," the man said. "The Cylons are saying that she's probably run off with someone else. But Beth wouldn't do that."

Felix knew better than to argue the point. "You think she could have gotten hurt?" he asked. "There are all kinds of ditches and-"

"They took her," McGurk insisted. "Believe me, I looked everywhere else I could think of before I tried _you_. She's nowhere to be found. The Cylons took her."

Felix nodded. "I'll look into it. But, Mr. McGurk, if she's in the Resistance-"

"She's not in the Resistance," he said, his scowl deepening. "Neither of us. Resistance- ha!" he spat. "We aren't collaborators, not like-" he bit off, obviously remembering he was asking a collaborator for help. "Well, we don't do what you do, but we cooperate. It's the only way to stay alive in this mess. There was no reason for them to take her."

Felix sighed. "I can't promise anything," he began.

"Of course you can't," McGurk interrupted, his voice dripping with contempt.

"I can't promise anything," Felix repeated more firmly, "but I'll do what I can."

McGurk drew himself up stiffly. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

McGurk nodded once more, and then left the office, shaking off the feel of it like he'd just walked through a pile of shit. Felix sighed heavily. He knew the feeling all too well.

***

It was raining. Felix stood at the window, arms crossed over his bare chest, looking out at the gray on gray, the settlement washed of any color it may have possessed.

John came up behind him, his arms snaking around Felix's waist as he kissed his cheek. "What are you looking at?"

"Just my city," Felix admitted. "Of course, it's more in my head, but…."

"But. You're thinking about something more. Something more specific."

"Yeah," Felix said, sighing. "I am."

"What is it?" John asked, kissing his neck. Felix didn't answer, and John hesitated. "You know," he said, his lips moving against Felix's neck, "you can tell me."

"I know." Felix couldn't quite look at him.

John stopped, his hands on Felix's biceps. He gently turned Felix around caught his chin, looking into his eyes. "Felix," he said firmly, "I know that you are not happy with the Cylons being here. You want us gone. Am I right?" Felix tried to look away, but John's fingers held him tight. "Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked.

"No," Felix said definitively.

"So let's not pretend. What are you thinking about?"

Felix sighed. "There was a man in my office today," he said. "He was worried about his wife. She disappeared, and he's convinced she's in custody."

"It's very likely. We've had a lot of trouble with the Resistance," John said.

"The husband swears that they weren't Resistance," Felix said.

"Well, of course he did," John said. "What is he going to say? 'Oh, of course, we tried to blow you up yesterday, sorry about that?'"

"I know," Felix said. He turned back to the window, hugging himself. "That's why I didn't say anything."

"Mmm." John nuzzled his neck again, but for once, Felix didn't respond. John paused again. "This is really bothering you, isn't it?"

"It is," Felix said. He looked out over New Caprica again. "I mean, the thing is, I got into this job because… well, pathetic as it sounds, I wanted to do something important. I wanted to make a difference. This was supposed to be a new life and a new start, and I can't stop seeing that. It's been a disaster, but the truth is, I still love this city, even if it's not a city. It's still _my_ city." He sighed. "I want to be able to help him. I want to be able to help all of them."

John sighed, rubbing up and down Felix's arms. "Tell you what," he finally said. "We've got records. Give me her name and her identification number, and I'll see what I can do."

Felix's eyes flared open, and he turned around. "You'd do that?" he asked incredulously. "You'd really do that?"

"I can't promise anything," John said. "You know that, right?"

"I know, but…" Felix couldn't think of a way to answer, so he kissed John enthusiastically.

Normally, sex between them wasn't bad, but it wasn't something Felix looked forward to, either. He went through the motions, he emphasized his responses, and he completely followed John's lead. But this time, he took the initiative, and when they were done, John laid back in the bed, breathing heavy and laughing.

"Now that," he said, tangling his fingers in Felix's hair. "That was…" he chuckled deep in his throat. "That was… that was something else again." He traced down Felix's face and touched his cheek. "If that's the reaction that releasing prisoners gets out of you, I might be tempted to free the entire center."

Felix flushed. "That wasn't why-"

"It was," John said, but he was smiling. "Give me her name and identification number, and I'll do everything I can."

"Thank you," Felix said, leaning back against John's shoulder. "I really… I… thank you, John." He smiled, and John laced his fingers through Felix's hair again, and Felix's face was against John's neck. It should feel comfortable and intimate, but Felix couldn't shake the feeling that the transformation was complete, and he had sold himself.

***

He was walking through the city when someone caught his arm. He turned, tense and ready for action, but his assailant was smiling. It took Felix a moment to recognize him as McGurk, the man that had been in his office. He had his arm around a blond woman wearing ragged clothing and a haunted smile.

"They let her out," McGurk said. He reached out and took Felix's hand. "They didn't tell her why they released her, but a One came in and let her go. I don't know what you did, but you got her out. Thank you." He shook Felix's hand warmly. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Felix said. His eyes met Beth's, and her smile faded a little. His did, too. She _knew_. Maybe not all the details, but he had the feeling she'd figured it out. He shivered. "I'm just glad I could help," he said.

"Well, thank you," McGurk said again. He wrapped his arm tighter around Beth and they continued on their way.

Felix watched them go. The way they leaned on each other and the lightness in their steps was all the thanks and reward that he ever could have hoped for.

***

"You look happy," John said that evening.

"I am," Felix admitted. It was odd that when he was in John's apartment, he felt less like he was with a Cylon. Maybe it was because he didn't see the other Ones walking around, or because it was just the two of them and they could shut out the world. But whatever it was, Felix had to admit that the only moments of happiness he had these days were here.

John set a plate in front of him. "What's got you so happy?" he asked, but his eyes were almost twinkling. Felix smiled up at him.

"You know perfectly well," he said. "Beth McGurk is out of detention."

"I thought that might be the case." John settled down in the seat across from Felix, watching him eat. "You know, you have a beautiful smile." He folded his hands on the empty table in front of him.

"Aren't you hungry?" Felix asked.

"No. I don't _have_ to eat," John said. "I do because the sensory input is something else again, but it's not required."

"I thought it was. Baltar told me that Cylons had all the same functions as humans."

John winked at him. "Not if you know how to bypass the routine."

"Oh." Felix wasn't quite sure what to say to that. He looked down at his own plate, his appetite dwindling. "John? Can I ask you something?"

"I love you."

The words, spoken matter-of-factly, caught Felix completely off-guard, with the force of a noiseless explosion. "What?"

John raised his eyebrows. "You were going to ask me why I let her out. She wasn't a prisoner of any real importance; her records said she had been picked up for breaking curfew by a matter of minutes. She was a causality of the fact that we've been cracking down more and more." He shrugged. "I looked decided she was no threat, and since _you_ asked…."

Felix put his fork down. "But I…" he trailed off, completely unsure as of what to say. It wasn't the logic, it was the revelation.

John came around the table. Felix turned in his chair, and John knelt down beside him so they were almost on eye level. "Felix," he said, in a voice Felix had heard him hint at but never use, "why do you sleep with me? I know it's not sex, and I know it's not love."

"Loneliness," Felix said. It was the truth, even if it wasn't the whole truth. "I go entire days where no one speaks to me. The Cylons hate me because I'm human, and the humans hate me because I help the Cylons. Even among the administration…" he shook his head. "Once, I thought I didn't need anyone, just my work. But even back then, I kept going to your- to his- office and playing chess. This time… it's… gods, I don't even have the words to describe it. I could get through it alone, but it's a lot easier if I don't have to."

"It's a good reason," John said finally. "And a better one than most of the ones I could conjure up." Felix shrugged wordlessly.

"I know you don't love me," John said, standing up and walking over to the window. He looked out, leaning against the sill. "And I understand that. When I was on Caprica,.. I learned a lot about love then. And I learned that the Cylons as a race don't quite understand it. We like to think we do, we like to think we're capable of it to a greater extent than humans are, but I'm not so sure. But what I did discover is that love… it makes miracles happen."

"Miracles?" Felix said. "I didn't think you believed in your God."

"I'm not talking about gods or God," John said. "Love is what made Kara Thrace come back for Sam Anders. Love is what saved the Eight who pretended to Karl Agathon that she was Sharon Valarii. Love is what made that same Eight defy her people and her sisters and seek asylum among your Fleet. And, if I'm not mistaken, love is what made you rerun the security checks on a certain disk, and later leave the position you worked your whole life to achieve, and serve on this mudball of a planet. Love makes people do things that they otherwise wouldn't dream of doing."

Felix stood up and approached softly, wrapping his arms around John from behind. John leaned back against him, and Felix kissed his cheek. John's hands drifted down and twined around Felix's. They stood in silence for a long time.

"Come to bed," Felix finally whispered, because he had no idea what else to say. A confession like that deserved honesty in return, and there was no honest answer that Felix could give. John looked back over his shoulder and smiled, and then his lips glanced against Felix's, light and almost unsure.

It was gentle and slow that night, words that Felix never would have applied to sex between them before. In fact, he realized after, in all of his limited experiences, he'd never had a partner treat him with that sort of tenderness and reverence. Afterwards, he lay in the circle of John's arms, tracing patterns on his skin.

"I can't make you love me," John said, "I know that. It doesn't work that way. But I can try."

"What do you mean?" Felix asked.

John was silent for a long time, weighing his words. Finally, he said, "I can't get out people who are in detention for violent crimes," he said, "or anyone important to the Resistance. But there are people in detention that I might be able to do something for. Give me names and identification numbers, and I'll do what I can."

"John." Felix pulled away and propped himself up on his elbow. "You don't have to. If you're caught-"

"I won't be," John said. "And I do have to. Like I said, I love you."

Felix nodded, his heart pounding faster. "All right," he said finally. "I'll give you some names tomorrow."

***

_I love you._ At last count, Felix could think of seven people in his life who had said those words to him. His mother and his father, of course. His brother, most likely, although he couldn't remember a specific time. A girl in high school, confessing her feelings. His first lover on the _Galactica_, a Viper pilot named Gunner, who was desperate to keep Felix from walking out the door after giving him a black eye. A drunken one night stand on Libron, whose name Felix couldn't even remember and who had most certainly never meant it. And Dee, right before he'd left the _Galactica_ for New Caprica.

_I love you._ There was something very powerful about those words, even when he knew he didn't remotely feel them in return. To be loved…. It made him feel a little safer when he walked through the city, made the colors a little brighter. It made him a little happier with John, made the apartment feel a little more like home.

_I love you._ It lifted him a bit, and he wondered why that should make him so happy. But it did, and there was no real explanation for it… or at least none that he was all that willing to consider.

And yet, despite it all, hearing it tonight didn't stop him from slipping out of bed while John slept. He sifted through the papers on the table, and finally found a memo to the most senior of the human staff that outlined the recent increases in security measures. He copied the memo furtively, and then returned the papers to their exact locations on the table.

_I love you._ They'd all said it. But the truth was Felix had left home, taken a position on a battlestar. He'd walked away from the girl and ended their friendship, because he didn't know how to deal with the fact her interest was unrequited. He'd walked out the door, because no words were going to make him stay with a partner that hit him. The drunken one night stand didn't count, and Dee… he'd come down to New Caprica regardless.

_I love you_ might be wonderful, but it had never stopped Felix Gaeta from doing what he believed was right. And as he slipped his notes into the pocket of his discarded pants and slipped back into bed beside John, he was pretty sure it never would.

***

"Good morning," Ellen said, coming into the tent. Her cup of coffee was waiting for her.

"Good morning," Felix said, looking up from his work. "How are you?"

"I've been better," Ellen sighed. "You?"

"Actually optimistic," Felix said.

"Really?" Ellen sat down on his bed and picked up her mug. "I'm glad someone is. You must be better in bed than I am."

Felix smirked and inclined his head. "That's an admission I never thought I'd hear from you."

"No, seriously," Ellen said, leaning in. "How are you doing it? How are you getting him to do what you want?"

"I really don't know," Felix admitted. He looked down at his pen. "I've been very submissive." Ellen made a face, and Felix smirked again. "Not quite like that. No bondage or anything." He'd been avoiding thinking about all the things John could ask for that he wouldn't be comfortable doing with a lover, no matter _who_ asked him. "Just… agreeable."

"Agreeable," Ellen sighed. "I frak him. How much more agreeable can I be?"

"Not so much in bed," Felix said. "The Ones- at least, my copy- like to talk. To pontificate. There's definitely some sort of ego there…" he shook his head, unable to fully articulate it. "I'm not a psychologist. I can't quite explain it. But I know that John-"

"_John?_" Ellen asked, raising her eyebrows.

Felix flushed. "That's what I call him." Ellen's eyes sharpened suddenly, and Felix squirmed under her scrutiny. "What?" he asked.

"You like him," she realized. "You aren't just frakking the bastard. You really like him."

"It's not like that," Felix insisted weakly. But it was. He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "He says he loves me."

"Love," Ellen scoffed. "You don't believe that, do you?"

Felix shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh, Felix." Ellen set her mug down. "Look. You're young. I'm guessing you haven't had a lot of… relationships." The final word almost dripped from her lips.

"I've had a few," Felix said, his spine straightening.

"Not like this," Ellen insisted. "So let me give you some advice, sweetie. When you frak someone to get something, it always ends badly. Don't lose yourself in this. Keep your feelings separate."

"I am. I'm no innocent, Ellen. I've had plenty of relationships blow up in my face, and I've always been able to walk away and go on." He thought of Neil, of Gunner, and of Gaius, and what each of those relationships had cost him, and could have cost him if he hadn't been stronger, or smarter, or more aware. "The thing is," he said, "I'm going to get frakked, okay? And I don't mean that literally. There's only one way for this to end, and that's extremely badly for me. But if I can do something… if I can help at all… I'm willing to let that happen. I'll take it. You might be selling your body, Ellen, but I'm selling my soul."

Ellen looked at him for a long time, and when the coffee spilled on his pants, Felix realized that he was trembling. He brushed at it irritably, the stain blurring in his eyesight. Then Ellen stood up and approached, and he froze. She lingered for a moment, her fingers gently brushing at his hair. Then she bent and kissed his forehead tenderly, her lips staying there for a long moment. He closed his eyes under her caress, and then it became too much and he laid his head against her breast. She held him close, and his throat closed tightly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and he could feel her silently crying as well.

"We'll make it through this," he whispered. "We'll do it. And you'll survive."

Her cheek was against his hair. "And you will, too," she whispered.

***

John sat at the table, Felix standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the crumpled list. "This one," John said, pointing to a name, "he died in prison, two weeks ago. We were too late. And this one, she was brought in for setting off a detonation at one of the rationing stations. I couldn't do anything there. But these two… I let them go, as well as these three."

Felix sighed in relief. "Five," he said gratefully. "That's over half of them. Thank you, John." He rubbed John's shoulders, easing the tension. "I know this was hard for you."

"To be honest," John said, tilting his head to the side to allow Felix better access, "it wasn't. I don't like humans, as a general rule. I'd be perfectly content to go back to where we were a year ago, with us chasing you across space. But that's not where we are now, and since it matters so much to _you_… I have a reason to let them go." He caught Felix's hand. "It's for you."

"I know."

John looked up at him. "I could do more," he offered.

"I can't ask you-" Felix said, his heart accelerating.

"You're not asking," John said. "I'm offering." He turned around fully, adjusting it so Felix stood between his knees, and his hands settled on Felix's hips. "Give me more names, Felix, and I'll get them out for you."

Felix ran his hands through John's hair, bowing his forehead against John's. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you so much."

***

Five lists of fifteen names each. Felix felt them running through his head at all times; when he lay in bed beside John, when he was walking through the city, when he was sitting in his office. Seventy-five people, plus the five that John had let out, plus Beth McGurk. Eighty-one people that he might save. Eighty-one. The thought buoyed him through the days, and John caught him at night.

He was in his office when a One came in. It wasn't John; he was certain of that simply from the way that the One was dressed and the way that he looked at him. Felix looked up, his face a blank mask of servility.

"Yes, sir?" he asked.

The One put a packet of papers down on Felix's desk. "These are the plans for the New Caprica Police graduation," he informed Felix. "We need to start working on security measures, especially with those damn insurgents acting up. You were military. You should be good at this."

Felix took the papers. "Yes, sir," he said. He glanced down at them, trying to look bored. "I can do this."

The One stepped back, studying him. "Consider this a promotion," he said. "One of our brothers has vouched for your intelligence and trustworthiness, and I think it's time we listen to him. But disappoint us, and you will regret it."

"Yes, sir," Felix said. "I won't disappoint you."

"You'd better not," the One said. He fixed Felix with an intense glare, and then left the office.

Felix watched him go, a black silhouette, anonymous behind dark glasses. Then he flipped open the graduation plans. This was a golden opportunity- he just had to do it right.

***

"I hear you got something of a promotion," John said that night as they sat on the couch.

"Something like that. Apparently a One vouched for me." Felix smiled at John. "Wonder who that could have been."

"Got me," John said, pretending innocence.

"Well, thank you," Felix said, moving over and kissing him on the cheek. "Somehow, I think I owe you."

"You don't," John said, "but if you're insinuating you want to have sex, I'm not going to say no."

"I don't think I'm really insinuating," Felix said, moving his hand up John's leg. "I think I'm being pretty blunt."

John wrapped an arm around his shoulders, but he didn't quite move into the caress. His eyes were fixed on Felix's face, and Felix wondered what he was seeing. But he didn't let on, just kept moving his hand. John smiled at him then, and pushed Felix down onto the couch. Felix closed his eyes and gave over, responding eagerly, easily, whispering John's name over and over. John's face was buried in the crook of his shoulder, and his arms were tight around him. It was warm and it was close and it was good.

"What are you thinking about?" John asked him, afterwards.

Felix sighed, nestling closer. "Someday," he said, "this is all going to end. Either the Cylons will kill all the humans, or the humans will escape."

"Yes," John agreed.

"If the humans escape," Felix said slowly, "will you come with us?" He looked into John's eyes. "Will you come with _me_?"

John's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You really mean that?"

"I really mean that," Felix said. "Look, I can't say the words you want to hear yet, but I _like_ you. I like you a lot. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, yes, but I actually enjoy being here. I know you'll probably win, and this is all moot. But if it doesn't work out that way… come with me."

John shook his head. "You're a dreamer, Felix," he said affectionately. "It's never going to happen that way."

"I know."

"But if it does, I will."

Felix reached up and kissed him. "I'm glad," he said, and the truth was, he was.

***

Felix sat at the desk in his tent, rubbing his temples. Designing the security plans was harder than he thought it would be. He needed to make sure that he left openings, but they couldn't be obvious. Nothing that would draw the Cylon's attention.

There was a knock on his tent pole, and he jerked back to the present, brow furrowing in confusion. He quietly took the service pistol from his desk, and then went to the opening. "Hello?"

To his surprise, Sam Anders popped his head in. "Can I come in?"

Felix relaxed marginally. "Yeah," he said. He didn't hide the gun; he wanted Anders to know he'd defend himself if he had to. But Anders just smiled grimly when he saw it.

"Good idea," he said. "There are plenty of people after your blood."

"Thanks for the update," Felix said sourly.

Anders shrugged. "I can't stay long. Have you heard anything about Kara?"

"No," Felix sighed. He wondered if he should put Kara on one of his lists. But she was ex-military, and he was sure that if she was still alive, she was giving the Cylons hell. "I've tried," he said. "But it's almost like she doesn't exist anymore. I can't even find a record of her death."

Anders sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I figured," he said. "I just thought I'd ask."

Felix studied him. "You didn't come here just to ask though, did you?" he said slowly.

"No, but it kind of leads into it. Listen, there are a few other people that I said I'd try to find. They aren't insurgents or anything, so you won't be compromising yourself. But we're running out of ideas, and they've almost got to be in the Cylon detention center." Anders looked bone tired as he said it, but his tone of voice was matter of fact. Felix nodded.

"Give me the names," he said, extending his hand.

Anders handed him a crumpled list, and Felix looked it over. Most of them were names he didn't know, but he recognized a few… some of them a little too well.

"When did you write this list?" he asked Anders.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Two, maybe three days ago. But they've all been missing for weeks."

"No, no, that's not it," Felix said. "It's that there's a few names on here… Jim Tinella, for example. He got out of detention a week ago. And Sarah Wainwright. I _know_ she was let out yesterday."

Anders shook his head. "No, that can't be right," he said. "These people have been missing-"

"You said you wrote the list a few days ago," Felix interrupted. "Sarah Wainwright only got out yesterday. And maybe you just haven't seen Jim. It's a big settlement."

"Maybe," Anders said, but his voice was filled with doubt. "What makes you think they're out? I thought you had nothing to do with that ministry."

"I don't," Felix said. "I just… I've…" he fumbled for a reason.

Anders' eyes narrowed, like he was putting the pieces together. "It's that One, isn't it?" he accused. "The one that everyone says you're sleeping with?"

"Everyone says I'm sleeping with a One?" Felix asked as lightly as he could.

"Yeah, well, people talk," Anders said. "In fact, that's why I thought you might be able to help me now."

He _knew_. It was there in the contempt on his face and the disgust in his eyes. Felix looked away.

"I can try," he said, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I can't promise anything, but I can try."

"Great," Anders said. Felix thought he would leave, but he lingered. "Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Go ahead," Felix said.

"Why the frak are you doing it, man? And why a One?"

Felix looked up at him. "You really can't figure it out?"

"Oh, I can come up with theories," Anders said. "Everything from you're protecting your own ass to you've seduced him to get information from him. But I don't know you well enough to figure out which one makes the most sense."

"What does Galen say?" Felix asked.

Anders snorted. "Galen just swears when the subject comes up and talks about a revolution. It's Cally that says that you're like a magnet for the worst, most destructive lover that you can possibly find, and you're not protecting yourself or protecting us, but just in yet another one of your frakked up relationships."

Felix sighed bitterly. "Well, Cally would know, wouldn't she?" he said. He wasn't sure what alarmed him more- that everyone knew about him and John, or that his previous love life was being so casually discussed. But if Anders knew the truth, it could all too easily undo everything Felix had worked for. Cally's explanation was the safest. He folded up the list that Anders had given him, creasing it carefully. "I'll do what I can about this," he said.

"Thanks," Anders said. He looked at Gaeta once more. "I knew that copy," he said, "on Caprica. And he didn't frak us over. I kind of hope you'll get that lucky, and I kind of hope he frakking destroys you."

"None of those frakked up relationships Cally told you about have yet," Felix said sourly. "And believe me, some tried."

"Yeah, but you ever played with life and death stakes?" Anders asked. He headed to the door. "Good luck on the list," he said. "And don't find me to tell me what's going on. I'll come to you."

"Got it." Felix watched him leave.

The gun was still heavy in his hand. For a long moment, he considered just picking it up, putting it to his head, and blowing his brains out. But that was just a fantasy, something he could never really do, and he knew it. He sighed and unfolded the list again, reading the names more carefully.

There were twenty-two names on the list, and John and Sarah were the only two that had already gotten out of detention. And John- his John- had just told him that Sarah was released yesterday, so of course she'd still be on the list. And it was entirely possible that the released John was hiding from Anders, or just not crossing his path. Felix had heard stories about the inside of Cylon detention, and he could imagine that anyone who had been released would want to ensure that they weren't headed back there anytime soon. That made sense.

He folded the list, put it in his pocket, and turned back to the security plans on his desk.

***

"Overall, this isn't bad," the Eight said, studying Felix's plan. "But there's something you've neglected."

"What?" Felix asked. "I've covered all of the entrances, and the Centurions can search-"

"No, you missed one," the Eight said. She pointed to the map of the complex designated for the NCP graduation ceremony. "Right here."

Felix's brows knit together. "Right where?" he said.

The Eight sighed heavily. "Right _here_," she said. "Where the Centurions will be entering."

"But if the Centurions are entering there…" Felix began, and then cut himself off. He considered. "No, wait. You only have so many forces," he said. "If you increase the number of troops here during the ceremony, you run the risk of leaving other vital areas uncovered."

She began considering- he could see it in her face.

He knew about this particular weakness in his security plan, of course. It was one of many, although the others were significantly smaller and harder to find. But what he hoped was that he could get the Cylons so focused on this particular aspect that their attention focused on this one spot, and they glossed over the others.

And in the end, when they'd worked out a patch for this particular flaw and the Eight signed off on the plans, he was fairly certain it had worked.

***

He had to wait until night fell. He worked late, typing memos for the senior staff, writing a report for Baltar on the state of the medical supplies in the settlement. But finally he was able to pull his jacket on, pull a hat over his curls, and step out into the night air.

He hated New Caprica at night now. Hated the high, bright lights that reminded him of a forced labor camp, hated the sickening smell of bad meat and human waste. Hated the cold, hated the sound of frozen mud under his feet, hated the way people huddled around trash can fires, turning away or glaring at him if they noticed him approaching. He hated the sounds from the bar tent, and hated the cries of children that he heard punctuating the tense and mumbled conversations.

He made his way to the garbage dump and put the message inside. Jake was on watch. He flipped Jake's bowl and knelt to fondle the dog's ears for a moment, and then headed away.

After walking through New Caprica at night, the warmth and light of John's apartment was an oasis. And that was what he hated most about night on New Caprica: that the only place he felt at home was in a Cylon's arms.

***

The coffee was cooling in the mug, untouched. Felix looked at it, and then looked at his watch. He had twenty minutes, and then he would be late for work. Still no Ellen.

There were only ten minutes left before he had to leave when the flap to his tent was pushed aside, and Ellen came in. She looked harried, but so happy, and he knew what was happening even before she spoke. But he waited, because she'd earned the right to say what she'd come here to tell him.

"They let Saul out last night," she said, and she was glowing with happiness.

Felix smiled. "I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that."

Ellen drifted around his tent, picking up a book aimlessly and setting it back down. "It really happened," she said. "It really paid off. Felix… I can't believe it."

"I can," he said. He glanced at his watch again, and Ellen noticed him looking. Her smile saddened, and he sighed. "You're not coming back, are you?" he asked.

"I want to," Ellen said, "but Saul…"

Felix shook his head. "It's for the best, Ellen," he said, although he would miss her company and camaraderie intensely. "Do what you need to do."

"You understand?" she asked anxiously.

"Of course." He stood up. "I'd say to say hello to the Colonel for me, but…"

"But," Ellen agreed. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the forehead. "Take care of yourself, Felix," she said. "And when he finds out…."

"He won't," Felix insisted. "Take care of yourself as well, Ellen. And take care of the Colonel."

She kissed him once more and then slipped out the door. He watched her go, and then pulled on his jacket. He didn't have time to feel anything about her departure: there was work to be done.

But it did give him hope that Ellen had succeeded, and he desperately prayed that he could do the same.

****

He hadn't forgotten about Sam Anders' insistence that Sarah Wainwright or Jim Tinella hadn't been released, but he hadn't focused on it, either. He saw Heather Redman playing with her baby, and he heard that Rayne Forman had reappeared. They were getting out.

But the doubt had been planted. There were people he should have seen… people whose paths he should have crossed, or who he still heard whispers of their whereabouts. It bothered him, but he wasn't sure how to ask.

It was John who brought it up. He put one of the list in front of Felix, with six names circled on it. "These are the ones I was able to get out," he said. "Good batch this time."

"Thank you," Felix said, looking at the list. His office door was closed, John was leaning over his desk as well. "I can't tell you how much…"

"You don't need to say it," John said. He hesitated. "I'm not sure how to ask this, but have any of them even thanked you?"

"They don't know it's me helping them," Felix said. "I don't expect thanks." But he looked down at his desk as he said it.

"Mmm." John touched his hair gently. "It must be hard. Have you seen many of them?"

"No," Felix admitted. "I guess it's just as well. Like you said, what would I say? But it still… I'd like to see them, you know? Just to _see_ that I'm doing something real to help…" he trailed off, aware that statements like that betrayed his true loyalties.

But John just stroked his cheek. "I know," he said. "And you are. Be patient, Felix. If you don't see them today, I'm sure you'll see them tomorrow."

"I know," Felix said. "Or the next day, or the next day… I can't imagine too many of them _want_ to see me," he admitted.

"It will work out," John said. "You'll see them. And as we get more and more of them out, you'll know just how much you're doing."

Felix smiled up at him. "I know," he said, and that was the moment he realized that he truly trusted John.

***

Two days later, the explosion rocked New Caprica, decimating the New Caprican Police graduation ceremony. Felix was sitting in his office on _Colonial One_, and his desk shook with it.

And he smiled.

***

The Cylons were furious. "Well, I don't know what you expect me to do," Baltar was saying, pacing the office of _Colonial One_ furiously. Felix watched him covertly, trying to keep out of the way without appearing to do so. "Suicide bombers. Suicide bombers!" he repeated, his eyes widening. "How are you going to fight that?"

"That's not what interests me at the moment," a Three said. "What I find most interesting, Mr. President," he voice dripped with sarcasm, "is that you were meant to be at that ceremony, and yet you chose not to attend. Why did you make that decision?"

"Why didn't I attend?" Baltar asked. Felix tried not to breathe too loudly, because he wasn't sure exactly what Gaius would say. "There's been some sort of leak in the administration; you all know that. Caprica convinced me not to attend for my own safety."

The blood roared so loudly in Felix's ears that he couldn't hear the Three's response. They _knew_. What the frak was he going to do now?

He forced himself to keep his breathing even and his face blank. They didn't know his identity. They couldn't. If they did- if they even _suspected_\- he would be dragged to the detention center, and his relationship with John wouldn't mean frak. Even Gaius wasn't looking at him, but he wasn't avoiding looking at him, either. Gaius might have suspected, but he didn't know. He slowly began to relax.

Suicide bombers. To be honest, he shared Gaius's revulsion at the idea. But desperate times did call for desperate measures, and this qualified as both.

"Mr. Gaeta?" the Three said expectantly.

"Excuse me?" Felix asked. "I'm sorry. I'm just still… stunned," he stammered. "I really thought that I had everything covered. I never even thought… suicide bombers." He managed to look sick. It wasn't hard.

"No one's blaming you, Mr. Gaeta," the Three said.

"No?" a Five asked from the corner. "Why not?"

"He wouldn't compromise the security of this graduation," the Three said. "Gaius Baltar was meant to attend." Her expression was mocking. "And even if that doesn't matter, _he_ was there."

Felix had to force himself not to let his eyes widen. "_He?_" Gaius asked.

The Three and the Five exchanged smirks. "I believe you call him John, Mr. Gaeta?" the Three said.

Felix flushed and avoided looking at Gaius. "Yes," he whispered. John had been at the graduation. Felix hadn't known that. "Is he all right?" he asked.

The Three and the Five looked at each other again, and the Five almost had a look of sympathy. "Oh, don't get so emotional," the Three said. "He'll resurrect."

Felix's throat tightened, but he wasn't sure if it was grief or fear. Because if John had died, his memories would be compromised, and the lists….

The Five glared at the Three, and turned to Felix. "It will take a while," he said, "but he'll be back down in about thirty-six hours. He'll find you."

"Good," Felix said, and swallowed hard. Thirty-six hours. He didn't know how he was going to wait that long.

***

_I'm back,_ the note said. _Come to my apartment tonight. –JC_

Felix stared at the note for a long time, unsure what to make of it. And unsure of what to make of the way his heart sped up and his hands started to tremble, and he felt relief at the familiar handwriting.

***

John answered the door when Felix knocked. "You could have used your key," John said.

"I wasn't sure what the protocol was," Felix said. He hesitated on the threshold. "I'm glad you're back. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," John said. "Come in." As he opened the door wider, Felix saw a chessboard set up on the table by the couch. He raised his eyebrows.

"We haven't played in a long time," he said.

"Which may have been a mistake," John said. He gestured for Felix to sit on the side where the white pieces were set up. "Let's play."

"All right."

They played the first game in near-silence, and John decimated Felix. Felix watched him, covertly at first. John was tense, angry. He could see that. But he wasn't sure if the anger was directed at him or not. From what he understood, the resurrection process was painful, and the effects could linger. But as John set up a second game in silence, Felix found himself on edge.

"Are you all right?" he repeated.

"I'm fine," John said.

"The graduation…" Felix said tentatively "I…."

John looked up sharply. "Yes?" he said.

"I didn't know it was going to happen."

"I never said you did." John moved his pawn.

"I know," Felix said. "But I was in charge of security."

John looked up at him again, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Don't I know it."

"John…"

John moved his piece sharply. "It's your turn," he snapped.

Felix stared at the board, and was surprised to notice that it was blurring. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move. He wasn't sure as to what froze him, if it was fear, or if it was guilt. "I didn't…" he began, but he didn't know how to finish.

"Are you looking for absolution, Felix?" John demanded. "I can't give you that. Just take your turn."

"I'm not looking for absolution," Felix said. He stared at the board, and then moved his rook. "I'm not looking for anything."

"Good." John pushed his queen into position. "Because right now, you're not in a position to ask for anything." Felix nodded, not able to meet John's eyes. "Suicide bombers," he said.

Felix held his tongue.

"I don't think I need to tell you that it's futile," John said. "And I certainly don't think I need to tell you that we're not happy about this."

"No," Felix agreed.

"I also am sure that you've figured out that there are those among us that suspect you were involved."

"The subject has already come up," Felix confirmed. "I wasn't."

John looked at him for a long, long time, and then looked down and moved his piece. "Check," he said, and Felix looked down at the board with surprise. He hadn't realized John was so close to winning. "I believe you," he said finally. "But you'd better know this. If you are involved, there is nothing I can do that will save you. And if you are involved, I don't want to save you."

"I'm not involved," Felix lied. "And if I was, I wouldn't expect you to save me."

John nodded. "Checkmate," he said, moving his king and capturing Felix's queen. "That's two for me."

"You've let me win before," Felix realized.

"Not always," John said. "But yes." He looked at Felix with laser sharp eyes. "Remember that." Felix swallowed and nodded, and John began to rearrange the chess pieces. "As long as you remember that, we'll be fine."

"I won't need to remember," Felix said. "We're on the same side."

John glanced up at him, but didn't comment. They played on¸ and the conversation subsided.

When John finally put the board away and pulled Felix into his lap, he wasn't quite sure how to play it. Too eager, too distant… anything could give him away and let John in on the tension he felt, and the feeling that his house of cards was about to come tumbling down. But he must have played it right, because the night ended with his head on John's shoulder, John's fingers toying with his hair.

"I'm glad you're back," Felix said, nestling deeper into the crook of John's arm. "I couldn't sleep last night without you there." That, at least, was the truth.

John's arm tightened around him. "I'm glad I'm back, too," he said. "If nothing else, just for you."

Felix smiled and closed his eyes. He'd made it through tonight. But a little treacherous voice in the back of his mind whispered that he wasn't going to be able to keep this up for long.

***

He was in the marketplace trying to find coffee when someone caught him by the arm. Felix jerked back, his entire body tensing because there was no possible way this could be good.

He was wrong- there was one possible way. Sam Anders dragged him into a nearby tent, and Felix exhaled in relief. "You scared the frak out of me," he told Anders.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean to," Anders said.

"Still nothing on Kara," Felix said, before Anders could even ask.

"I figured," Anders said brusquely. "And for that matter, I still haven't seen Jim Tinella or Sarah Wainwright around, either."

"They-"

"Don't argue with me, Gaeta," Anders snapped. "We don't have time for that." Felix looked him over again. Sam didn't look good, he realized. Not so much physically, but he looked harried and worried, more so than usual. "I know you've been able to get two people on that list I gave you out-"

"Come on now," Felix said, "it's been more than two!"

"Would you shut up?" Anders hissed. He glanced furtively at the entrance to the tent. "Listen, I don't know if this is important or not to you, but you really need to know this. Your name came up when I was talking to a few people, and the whole thing with you and that One." Anders looked pained. "See, here's the thing. Like I said, I knew the guy back on Caprica. He wasn't just someone I knew, either. He was sort of my… confessor, I guess. My guide. I really trusted him. If there was any Cylon that was gonna throw over the others and help us out, it would be him. So I said something about that. And Tigh, he looked at me really funny and told me that that copy had been boxed."

"Boxed?" Felix scoffed. "How would Tigh know, unless he's a Cylon himself?"

"He was there when they executed the Caprica copy and the copy that was on _Galactica_," Anders explained. "And he said the _Galactica_ copy was going to make sure that the Caprica copy was boxed."

"Doesn't mean he succeeded," Felix said. "Maybe the other Ones overruled him."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. So I did a little asking around, and I got one of the guys from _Galactica_ to talk to that Boomer about it. And she said yeah. The One that was on Caprica was boxed, and she's absolutely positive. And Gaeta, I don't think she's lying about it. She might be, but I can't see what she'd have to gain on this one."

Felix's blood ran slowly froze in his veins as he began to absorb the implications. "All right," he said slowly.

"Look, it might not mean anything. I don't know," Anders said. "But somehow… somehow I can't believe that you're not playing some game here, and whatever you're doing… I don't get any of what's going on with you and this One, and I don't want to. But Ellen was there when Tigh told me this, and she seemed to think you should have all the information."

"Yeah. Thanks," Felix said through numb lips. "And thank Ellen for me, too."

"I will. Gaeta?"

"Yeah?"

"_Should_ I be rooting for you? Or are you frakking us all over?"

Felix sighed. "If I was frakking us all over, do you think I would tell you?"

Anders rolled his eyes. "All right," he said. "It was a dumb question. I just can't shake the idea…" he shook his head again. "If it was any other Cylon but a One, I might… I don't know. Just…"

Felix put him out of his misery. "Thanks," he said. "I have to go, Anders. Take care."

"Yeah. You too." Anders stood in the dark tent as Felix ducked back into the watery sunshine of New Caprica. But the sunshine did nothing but blind him. There was no warmth in the light.

John had been lying to him. Felix was surprised to find out just how much that hurt.

He strode through the marketplace, coffee forgotten. He kept walking until he broke into a run, pushing people aside. He didn't know where he was running to, only that he had to keep running. He ran until his legs were like stone and his lungs were like fire and his shirt was soaked through with sweat, and still nothing made sense. His breath came in hot, strangled gasps for air, and he felt like he was drowning.

His run had taken him to one of the rivers. He looked around, then cast off his jacket and jumped in. The water came up to his waist, soaking his pants and his shirt, freezing his skin until he felt pain. He closed his eyes, waded out further, and ducked under the surface.

It was cold and dark in the river, and he longed just to lift his feet from the bottom and let himself go. But his feet stayed firmly on the bottom and he felt his knees straightening and his head breaking the surface, and he came into the cold air, sucking oxygen into his lungs. His teeth were chattering and his skin was cold and hard, but he stood in the river, watching the icy water break around his body.

John had been lying to him, and everything he thought he knew, everything he thought was safe, was turned upside down.

"Gaeta."

He turned around, surprised at the intrusion. Anders stood on the bank, helplessly holding his jacket. "Come out of there," he said. "You'll freeze."

"Maybe that's the point," Felix tried to say, but his teeth were chattering too hard to get the words out. His body began moving of its own volition, and he found himself on the bank next to Anders. Anders wrapped the jacket back around his shoulders.

"Come on," he said, and really, he needed no other explanation.

Anders' tent looked a lot like Felix's own, but more crowded, more familial. Felix stood dully in the center of the tent as Anders moved around, staring at a stuffed hedgehog, of all things. Why a hedgehog? He couldn't even begin to make sense of that stupid little stuffed animal, sitting on a table and mocking him.

"Here." Anders put a warm cup into Felix's hands. When Felix didn't move, he huffed and began unbuttoning Felix's shirt. "You've got to get out of that," he said. "You'll freeze. You can use some of my clothes. You're smaller than me, but they'll work." He took the cup again from Felix and stripped the wet fabric away. Then he pulled a sweatshirt over Felix's head. For a moment, Felix felt ridiculously like a child again.

It wasn't much, but it was some sort of feeling, and it began to spread through his numbed soul. But the time Anders helped him roll the sleeves up so he had free use of his hands, Felix was able to undo his own pants and change into the dry jeans that Anders offered. Anders wrapped a heavy, worn quilt around his shoulders and pushed Felix down to sit on the bed, and then replaced the mug in Felix's hands.

"Drink," he ordered, "and I'll make you something to eat."

"It's all right," Felix said, and his voice sounded more like himself. "Believe me, I eat better than most people on New Caprica."

Anders made a face. "I'm sure you do," he said. "But you need something now." He turned back to the hotplate. "I'm not the world's best cook, but I have a few eggs and I can make a mean omelet." Felix just shrugged, and watched as Anders worked.

The silence that descended in the tent was oddly comfortable. Felix began to relax, and as he did, he felt his eyelids growing heavy. The dim thought that he was meant to be at work hung heavy in his mind, but he dismissed it. Then he heard music.

For a moment, he thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but then he came back to consciousness enough to realize that Anders was humming. It was an old folk song, one Felix knew but couldn't remember having ever been taught; something about three wishes. Anders had a sure sense of pitch and a nice tone to his hum, and there was something gentle and soothing about the song.

Everything became soft then, soft and warm. He closed his eyes, and the mug disappeared from his hands as the song gained a little in volume. He drifted away, warm and comfortable and not alone.

***

His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, and he was in a bed he didn't recognize. The sun had set, and the only light was from a flickering lamp. Felix sat up, looking around. Slowly, he remembered where he was.

There was a note by the bedside. Felix picked it up, studying the narrow, slanted writing with intense concentration. Anders had very elegant handwriting to look at, but it really was a bitch to read.

_Gaeta-_

_I had to go out- completely unavoidable. Make yourself comfortable, there's food on the table for you. It should heat up well enough._

_I know what I told you earlier bothered you, and I get that. And I know you're in some kind of trouble. But the thing is, you're still a human, and these days, that's got to count for something, right? And if I'm right about you, it counts for more than anyone else thinks it does._

_So, listen. Stick around until I get back, and I'll do what I can to help you. Whatever the frak is going on with you and this One, I'm pretty sure it's frakked up and nowhere near as simple as what everyone thinks it is. We can get you out of this somehow, and we can keep you safe. Well, safe as anyone is on this rock, anyway, which really isn't saying anything. _

_All I'm saying is, people without consciences don't go wandering into rivers like that. Something's going on, and I'm willing to help._

_Sit tight, and I'll be back soon._

_-Sam Anders_

Felix read the letter over three times, his eyes stinging with hot tears. Then he neatly folded the letter, and tore it into tiny pieces.

He appreciated the offer. But if he was going down, he wasn't taking anyone with him. He gathered up his still damp clothing and crept out of the tent, leaving the oil lamp burning.

Let Sam Anders believe what he would believe at Felix's absence. Time was running short, and the stakes were getting higher, and he had things he needed to do.


	3. I Came To In My Future

He used the key John had given him, and when the door opened John looked up with a smile from the book he was reading.

"Hey," Felix said lightly, coming over and kissing John casually. "Where'd you get the book?"

"I found it on _Colonial One_," John said. "In one of the offices."

Felix glanced at the title. It wasn't one he was familiar with. "Is it any good?" he asked.

"Not particularly, but if you're desperate for reading material, you can have it when I'm done."

"Thanks."

John reached up and wrapped an arm around Felix's waist, pulling him down to the couch. "Where were you this afternoon?" he asked.

"I wasn't feeling very well," Felix admitted. "I fell asleep."

"I see," John said, and Felix wondered if he believed him. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah. I think it was just exhaustion."

John nodded, and Felix warned himself not to think too much. Just go along, pretend it was like it always was. He willed his tongue away from the word _Caprica_, and settled on the couch. "You look tired as well," he said.

John smiled and turned another page of his book. "You know I'm not."

"I know. But strained. Drained. Something like that."

John sighed and set the book down. "More problems with the insurgents. I'm sure you heard there was another suicide bombing.

Felix sat straight up. "Another one?" he said.

"At a power station" John said. His eyebrows rose. "You didn't know, did you?"

"No," Felix said, his lips numb. "I didn't. I was asleep all afternoon." He sighed, sitting back into the couch.

"It bothers you," John said.

"Well, yes," Felix said.

"I'm surprised. I thought you wanted the Cylons gone."

Felix shrugged. "Suicide bombers aren't exactly my method of choice," he said, and then he noticed the expression on John's face. "It bothers you as well."

"Well, of course it bothers me," John said. "Dying is an inconvenience, but this… this is a sort of insurgency that we can't fight. It's not like we can kill the perpetrators."

"True," Felix said.

"How do you eliminate the threat when death is hardly a deterrent?" John mused. "It's going to take some thought, but something will have to be done soon." Felix nodded, and John smiled at him. "Don't worry about it," he said, his arm tightening around him. "It has nothing to do with here and now."

Felix desperately wanted to ask more, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he let John kiss him, forcing himself to respond. He hadn't had this much trouble with it since the first time they'd slept together, and it was strange to have that feeling now. He'd felt like this when he and Neil had slept together after their ostensible breakup, and he'd felt like this after he'd realized that Gaius didn't give a frak about New Caprica. This cold attempt at intimacy, automatically going through the motions as if they could return what had been lost. But he forced it, and soon the heat and the sensation overtook him enough that he didn't have to try so hard to pretend.

They ended wrapped around each other on the couch, the fabric rough under Felix's naked shoulder blades. He clung to John, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

"I love you," John whispered. The words hung in the air.

Felix pulled away enough that he could meet John's eyes. He met them squarely, trembling as he spoke. John no longer deserved honesty, and he was free to weave this web the way it was meant to be woven.

"I think I…" he paused, saw John's intake of breath, and the world waited on a knife-edge. "I think I might love you, too." He ducked his face back into the crook of John's shoulder.

John didn't answer for a long time. Eventually, he sat up, reached for a blanket, and pulled it over the both of them. He settled Felix against him, fitting him in the crook of his arm. It took a few minutes, but they eventually sank into each other and managed to get comfortable. It was warm and close, and it had been a long day. Felix let his eyes close.

He had just about drifted off to sleep when he heard John say, "I don't know if you're telling the truth or not. But I hope to God you are."

It was better to pretend he was asleep, because then he didn't have to lie. Felix kept his eyes closed and his breathing even, and soon the sleep became real.

***

It was harder to get out of the couch than the bed without disturbing John, but Felix figured the bathroom was always good for an excuse. But John didn't wake, and Felix crept through the apartment silently.

He sifted through John's papers, and he wondered how much any of this was helping. If they were using suicide bombers now, there wasn't much he could do. It felt hopeless. Then he remembered that John had been lying about Caprica, and the threat sharpened in his mind.

He wondered, sometimes, if John left information for him to find. But today, as he quietly moved papers, he discovered that no, John didn't. Because he couldn't imagine any way that even John would give him the details on the frequencies that the Cylons used. The data in front of him would require several hours of work and extrapolation, but when he was done… when he was done, he'd be able to provide the Resistance with the information they'd been asking for for months. And he knew- of _course_ he knew- that this was how they'd make contact with _Galactica_.

_Galactica._ He couldn't think about that now. He stared at the data, and then scribbled a few notes to himself on a piece of paper. He folded the paper, slipped it into his discarded shoe, and then made his way to the bathroom.

John was still sleeping when he returned, but he'd shifted so that it was impossible for Felix to fit back on the couch. He shivered, and then touched John on the arm, shaking him lightly. John opened his eyes, staring at Felix blearily. And in those seconds, Felix wasn't quite sure that John knew who he was, or even wanted to.

The impression fled as quickly as it had come, and John's expression changed with recognition. "Should we use the bed?" Felix asked, still shivering. John nodded, and Felix pulled him to his feet. It all seemed so normal, and soon they were curled together in the bed, far more comfortable than they had been.

But as he thought of the frequencies in his shoe, Felix had the feeling he wasn't going to sleep at all for the rest of the night. He lay in the darkness, waiting in anxious silence.

***

He left John's apartment right before dawn, and ducked back into his tent. He was only going to change his clothes and pick up some breakfast, so he was shocked to the core to see someone else in the tent.

Ellen Tigh was sitting on his bed, a cup of coffee in her hands. Another cup was waiting on his desk, the steam still rising off it.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. Her voice was bright, but her eyes were red and the tip of her nose looked raw. "I just…"

"Of course," Felix said, sitting down at his desk slowly. "I never mind."

Ellen clung to her cup of coffee. "Have you ever had it happen?" she asked. "You were bearing up just fine, but then you thought it was over and you were free. And when it all came crashing down on you and trapped you again, you found it only got worse with time?"

"I think we all felt that way the Cylons invaded New Caprica," Felix said evenly. Ellen looked down at her mug, and he sighed. "Yes," he told her. "Unlike you, my partners haven't exactly been…" he searched for the word he wanted to describe Colonel Tigh. "Devoted," he finally settled on, because it wasn't like Tigh was a beacon of model marital behavior, the way he drank.

"I can't stand him," Ellen admitted, and Felix didn't even have to ask who she meant. "The feel of him, the smell of him… even the _sound_ of his voice. It makes me sick. I can't do it anymore." Her eyes were red.

"What would happen if you don't?" Felix asked.

Ellen didn't answer.

Felix put his cup down, but Ellen wouldn't look up and meet his eyes. He went over and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she buried her face in his stomach and began to cry. He stroked her hair awkwardly. It was tangled and messy, and he was sure a One's hands had been in it. He tried to work the tangles out gently with his fingers, combing them through slowly as Ellen cried.

Eventually, the storm began to let up, and Ellen began to calm down. Felix found a handkerchief for her and sat down beside her, wiping her face gently. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked her.

"No," Ellen said, smiling a little. "But I'll do what I have to do."

"Of course you will."

Ellen studied him. "I don't think I've ever seen you dress like that," she said.

"Like what?" Felix asked, and then looked down. He was still wearing Sam Anders' clothes. "Oh. They're borrowed. I should change before I go to work. Do you mind?" he asked.

He meant for her to leave, but Ellen just sat back with a smile. "Not at all," she said. "Go ahead."

He stared at her for a moment, wondering how she could shift gears so quickly. But he realized suddenly that Ellen wasn't really watching him- her eyes were on him, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. Habit, then, and an attempt at normalcy. He'd seen her do this before. He stripped off the sweatshirt.

"Should I sing?" he asked her, attempting a leer as he twirled the sweatshirt half-heartedly.

Ellen smirked. "If you like." Her eyes flicked to his bare torso. "I'm sure he appreciates you," she said.

Felix shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not sure I know anything anymore." He hesitated, and then said, "I found out he's been lying to me all this time."

"Well, of course," Ellen said. "Did you really think otherwise?"

"I believed him about this," Felix said. "It seemed like something he wouldn't need to lie about."

"Those are the most dangerous," Ellen said. "Because they lie for a reason, Felix, not just because they feel like it. They aren't people. If he's lying about something, there's a plan there that you're not seeing."

It sent chills down his spine. "It's thrown all my calculations off," he admitted. "I feel wrong-footed. Everything I thought I was sure of… I can't rely on any of it anymore. And I've built too much." He pulled on his own shirt and then kicked off the jeans. "I know why he lied. He did it to get me to trust him. But what I don't understand is what I've got that he would want, besides the sex."

Ellen thought about that, and then nodded. "I guess," she said. She made a face. "And the Ones certainly are discovering sex."

"Makes you wonder what goes on when they're on those baseships," Felix muttered, and Ellen giggled. He pulled his pants on, and pulled the zipper up. "Better?" he asked, referring to her own emotions.

"Mmm. I think I preferred you naked," Ellen said. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Better," she admitted, and she extended his handkerchief back to him. "Thank you."

He smiled at her, and wished there was something more that he could do. But Ellen was collecting herself, and she looked untouchable to his eyes. She needed to be untouchable. She stood in his tent, her hair still mussed and her lipstick smeared, adjusting her clothing and carefully emptying out the coffee mug, and Felix thought that she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She caught him watching, and she smiled at him.

"I need to get to work," Felix said. "Do you want to leave first, or shall I?"

"Go ahead," Ellen said. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad I know you," he whispered, and Ellen jerked straight, her body stiff against him.

"Don't be so sure of that," she said as he ducked out of the tent. He glanced back at her in surprise, but her smile was back. "When all of this is over, I'll come looking for you. We'll see how much you want to know me then."

They laughed together, and Felix left his tent with a slightly lighter heart.

***

They worked. The jamming frequencies worked. Felix sat at the computer, his eyes wide and a smile of triumph easing across his face.

They worked.

He disconnected and shut off the computer, and then buried his head in his arms, his shoulders shaking. After everything, he finally had something real. Something that was more than releasing a person from detention or enabling a detonation. This was something that could actually get them reconnected with the _Galactica_. This was what he had been looking for.

He slipped out of the chair and left the vacant office, affecting his best bored-and-on-an-errand expression. No one noticed him, or if they did, they didn't say anything. He walked through the halls of _Colonial One_, and then stepped out into the cold, chilly air of New Caprica, the jamming frequencies heavy in his pocket.

He was nervous; he always was when he made these drops, now more than ever. Ever since he'd found out that John was lying about Caprica, it had opened up so many new possibilities, each worse than the last. His secret fear, the one he couldn't even say to Ellen, was that John knew what he was doing and was deliberately feeding him false information. But he _wasn't_. Either John didn't know, or he was helping.

As he walked to the dead drop, Felix imagined it was the second. He knew it probably wasn't true, but there was always the slim possibility that it was.

***

Felix found himself singing in his office the next morning. It was a song his mother used to sing, a silly song about spiders and rain. He would always remember it, because that was what he was singing when he turned a piece of paper over and found the death list in his in box.

He couldn't absorb what the list was. Not at first. It was just a list of names and identification numbers, and at first Felix thought that perhaps it was names of the next batch of NCP recruits. But then his brain caught up with his eyes, and he saw read the heading, and he saw the signature.

It was a death list, and Gaius Baltar had approved the deaths of over two hundred of his people. Felix sat frozen, the song dead on his lips.

He heard a noise out in the hall, and put the list down hurriedly. His door opened, and he supposed that he shouldn't be surprised when John came in.

"You saw the list?" John asked.

"You can tell?" Felix said.

"You're white,"

"It can't be real," Felix said, shaking his head. "That Gaius signed…"

"The President signed," John said. "And it is real." But there was sadness in his eyes.

"I don't suppose you can-"

"I already tried. Believe me, I tried." He came closer and touched Felix's cheek. "What are you going to do?"

Felix stood up. "I'm going to talk to Gaius," he said definitively. "There has to be _something_… he's drinking a lot and he's taking a lot of pills… he must not have understood."

"He understood." John stepped back. "This is what has to happen. The insurgency is getting too strong."

"So you murder people?" Felix demanded.

"There has to be an example. If they listen to us, the deaths of these two hundred will save thousands more. There's talk of just nuking the entire settlement."

"But these people- I know people on this list! A lot of them haven't done anything!"

"They're insurgents."

"Not all of them! It's a setup. A simple setup to make it all look legitimate, like they've got the right! You've got to do something to stop it!"

"I can't. And if I stop it, things will only get worse for you."

Felix set his shoulders "If you can't, or if you _won't_, I will."

"Felix, there's nothing you can do."

Felix's mouth was set. "There's always something I can do, John. I'm going to find Gaius."

"Felix!" John called, as Felix began to run out of his office. "It won't work!"

But John was wrong. It _would_ work, and he would make Gaius see reason. And if Gaius didn't, there was someone who would believe him. Even if Felix had no idea who that person was, he knew exactly how to contact them.

***

_He won't listen. He won't help. He won't listen. He won't help._ The words echoed through Felix's mind, punctuated by the sound of his shoes on frozen mud as he ran. And he wasn't sure who he meant by those words.

***

The settlement seemed quiet. _Colonial One_ was quiet. But it was the silence of waiting. Felix slipped back into his office, closing the door quietly.

John was still sitting at his desk.

"What did you do?" he asked, standing up.

Felix shook his head. "Nothing," he said, conjuring up as much resignation as he could. "You were right. Gaius did nothing."

"I told you," John said. He stood up and came around the desk and pulled Felix into his arms. "There was nothing you could do. But if the insurgents listen to our message, if they understand and obey… these two hundred people will not have died in vain."

Felix nodded mutely, and laid his head against John's shoulder. "I keep telling myself that," he whispered.

"You'll believe it," John said. "You keep telling yourself, you wait and see what happens, and you'll believe it." He raised Felix's chin and kissed his lips. "We both need to get back to work," he said. "If nothing else, I'll see you tonight."

Felix nodded. "I'll be there," he promised. He watched as John left the office, and then carefully sat down at his desk.

Gods willing, they'd find that list before the Cylons could execute the prisoners. He laced his fingers together and bowed his head, resting it on the desk.

_Please, please… let them get there before the Cylons can do anything. Please. This had to have worked. Please. Save my people._

And _Colonial One_ stayed silent.

***

"Felix."

Felix's head shot up from the report he'd tried to read three times. "John."

"Come with me."

Felix stood up. John's face was impassive, but he held his hand out. Felix obeyed.

They walked out into the settlement together. "The execution was averted," John said, smiling. "I thought a celebration was in order."

"It was averted?" Felix asked. "How?"

"Well, apparently the Resistance got wind of it," John said. He wrapped his arm around Felix's shoulder, and Felix stiffened a little. This was something that John had never done in public. "They made it to the flats, and they took out the Cylons that were there- both the humanoid models and the Centurions. A One died."

"Oh," Felix said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"He'll be back," John said. "It's a painful process, resurrection, but he will be back." Felix nodded. "But I heard about what happened, and I knew you would want to know. You, with your concern for life, for all of those who would spit on you… you would still be glad to hear that they lived."

Felix nodded. "Thank you."

There were eyes on them as people walked by. Wide eyes, as John and Felix confirmed all those rumors. Felix stared after the people in the street, wondering if any of them were armed. John followed his gaze.

"Are you scared?" John asked.

Felix forced a smile. "Well, yeah. If any of them shoot you, you'll resurrect. I won't."

"That's right." John's arm tightened protectively around Felix's shoulders. "I often forget how fragile human life can be. You are such resilient creatures, so determined to survive… especially you. That's what drew me to you, you know."

"I didn't know that," Felix said.

John stopped. They were in the middle of the marketplace, and the people were giving them wide berth. "It's exactly what drew me to you," he said. "When I entered that office that first day on New Caprica, and I saw your face. The others, they would surrender. They would work with us to build a new dream, or whatever bullshit the Sixes and the Eights were spouting. But you… no. Not you. You would keep fighting. You would see it as your duty to defend these people who would all just as soon see you dead. And you would do it no matter what the cost. You can see why you caught my interest."

There was something harder in John's eyes, and Felix tried to pull away. But John held him tight. "John-"

"And then," John said, his smile deepening. "You went beyond that. You weren't content just to juggle the paperwork and try to adjust rations. You weren't happy just to try to win our trust and influence us from the inside. You wanted to _save_ people. You wanted to _help._ And you were willing to sell your body and your soul to do it. All those miserable, wretched people. Some of them didn't even know your name. Some of them cursed your name before they died. And some of them just stared at me like they'd always known it and misjudged you. But you believed that every one of them deserved to live, and you sold yourself for them. How could I not love that?"

The fingers were like steel now, and John's voice was rising. People were stopping and staring, and Felix couldn't get away. "John," he tried again, panic closing his throat. "I never-"

"And then.., then today I find out what you really are. I find out that you… my lover for the past three months, my own little pet… you were frakking us over the entire time. How much did you tell them? How much did you give them? Was it just the death lists? Or was the Resistance the only thing you ever had on your mind? How much did you take out of my apartment and give to them? How much?!" His eyes were wide and angry, and his face was twisted and dangerous.

"How much did you lie to me?" Felix shot back. "You were never on Caprica. That copy was boxed."

John smiled, and the smile twisted into something more like a sneer. "I lied," he agreed. "You lied. Was there ever one moment- even one- where either of us told each other the truth?"

Felix thought over the past three months. "Yes," he said finally. "I really did want you to come with us."

John shook his head. "Then you're an even bigger fool than I thought," he said. Then a gun went off, and Felix's lower abdomen exploded in pain.

He fell to the ground, his hands automatically going to the wound. It wasn't gaping, like it felt. Just a small hole in him, just a tiny entry point. Warm blood spilled onto his fingers.

"Let this be an example to all of you!" John shouted to the marketplace at large. "This is what happens when you betray us! This is what happens to those who work against our greater goal, who defy the administration of this settlement! You die in the street like a dog!"

There was a loud clanking. Centurions. Felix saw them through unfocused eyes. They stood above him, and he tensed, waiting for his body to be riddled with holes. But the gunshots never came.

"Don't let anyone near him," John ordered. "Let him die slowly, like my brother. Kill anyone who tries to help him."

Felix groaned.

John knelt down beside him. "You betrayed me," he whispered, "and I betrayed you. But this is my last gift to you. It might take hours, but you _will_ die. If my brothers had had their way, it would take much, much longer. Goodbye, Felix." Felix wasn't sure if John's lips touched his if that was a pain-induced delusion. It didn't matter. John stood, kicked Felix hard in the ribs, and then strode away.

Felix lay in the dust, and the pain overtook him. He felt his limbs trembling violently, but the life didn't drain from him. He curled around the pain, but it didn't help. When he looked at his own fingers, they were red and wet.

He saw people watching, their faces lost and confused. He saw the metal feet of the Centurions, the black boots of the NCP. They all seemed so far away, shifting in and out of focus.

Wasn't your life supposed to flash before your eyes before you died? Felix had always heard that, but no images came dancing across his consciousness. Just the red haze of pain, and the look on John's face right before he shot him.

_I betrayed you._ The words rang in his head, echoing down his nerves and into every millimeter of his body. _I betrayed you. Some of them died cursing your name. I betrayed you._

"John." His lips formed the words, but his mouth felt parched and the syllable barely came out. _What did you do?_ he asked silently. _What did_ I _do?_

He heard shouting, and he turned his head towards it. Shouting, orders, gunfire. He closed his eyes. It was cold here on the ground, and he couldn't stop shivering. He tried to look up, but nothing made sense. One of the NCP officers was shouting at the Centurions to cease fire, and he thought he heard Anders. But that couldn't be real.

He closed his eyes. The pain was still radiating through his body, and he gave over to it. He was going to die, and the less he fought it, the more swiftly it would come. And when he heard the voice right above him and felt someone's knees under his head, he couldn't register any of it at all.

***

"Get the frak out of my way."

A beep.

"Doc, can you-"

"I can't do a damn thing with you in my light. Now get the frak out of my way."

A sting on the side of his neck.

And then nothing.

***

Someone was standing over him, and there was a gentle hand on his forehead. White hair. Older. Male.

"John?"

"Better not be. Stay with us, Gaeta."

"He told me…" _The lists._ He remembered the lists. The colors began to swirl again, and the darkness crept into his vision.

A beep, again, angry and urgent. "Gaeta!" That same voice, one he _knew_ he'd heard before. "Stay with me!"

But he couldn't.

***

"Is he going to live, Doctor?" A female voice, worried.

"I don't know." A quiet click, a deep inhalation. "He will if I have anything to say about it."

"Good."

A grunt.

"Can I stay with him for a bit?"

"He won't know you're here."

"I don't care. I just…"

A sliver of light, a flash of blonde hair. "Ellen," he whispered.

A cool, graceful hand in his. "Rest, Felix," she whispered softly. A gentle, warm pressure on his forehead. "Your work is done."

"Is yours?" he asked.

Something dripped on his cheek. "No," she said. "It's not."

He tried to squeeze her hand, but he had no strength, and there was a curious roaring in his ears. He let his eyes close fully again, and the darkness carried him away.

***

"_Alone she sleeps in the shirt of a man, with my three wishes clutched in her hand…_"

_The first that she would be spared the pain that comes with a dark and laughing rain._ He remembered the lyrics, and the smell of eggs, and the warmth of a soft sweatshirt wrapping around him and driving away the cold. He remembered humming, and a comforter pulled around his shoulders.

"Anders. We've got to go."

"Just a minute, Jammer. I thought I saw something."

"Anders… we really don't have time. Chief said-"

"All right. I'm coming." Hands pulling the blanket over his chest. "Let's go."

***

Explosions. He was only vaguely aware of them, and someone beside his bed.

"Is it a good idea?"

"We've got to. We're going to be jostling him getting him to a Raptor. It's better if he doesn't know what's happening."

"All right." That prick on the side of his neck again, and everything began to spin.

***

The beeps again, and this time they were steady. And this time Felix could open his eyes. He saw white- white everywhere, although it resolved into different shapes. He tried speak, but his mouth was too dry. But this time he didn't drift back into unconsciousness, and although there was no pain, he was aware there would be, soon. He looked around, trying to assess his surroundings, and slowly he realized he was in a hospital bed.

There was the sound of metal on metal, and a curtain pushed aside, alleviating all of the white. Felix stared as Doc Cottle approached.

"Where am I?" he managed to croak. The infirmary tent on New Caprica didn't look like this.

Cottle smiled around his cigarette. "You're on _Galactica_" he said. He flipped Felix's hospital gown up, prodding at his abdomen. "Although you very nearly weren't. A few more minutes and you might not have been."

"They made contact?" Felix asked. "They got the frequencies?"

"Yeah. And you've got some questions to answer about that. I'd be more upset about them insisting that, but," Cottle inhaled deeply, "I have a feeling that they're gonna like the answers." He looked at Felix with a distinct look of approval.

Felix didn't really know how to answer, so he just nodded. Cottle continued his examination, inflicting various indignities and muttering to himself. Felix just submitted.

"Well, I think you're out of the worst of the danger," Cottle said finally. "Although we'll have to watch you very carefully for any signs of infection." He checked his watch. "I'm going to let the Admiral know you're awake."

"All right," Felix said. The Admiral. He wouldn't fully believe that he was on _Galactica_ until he saw Adama's face.

Cottle nodded and disappeared, and Felix lay in the bed. He was warm now, he realized, although the blanket around him was scratchy and starched. He couldn't say he was physically comfortable, but at least he was warm.

He heard the bootsteps first, and even from the bootsteps he knew it was the Admiral. And when he saw Adama come in and pull a chair up to his bedside, he found himself trying to straighten up.

"At ease, Mr. Gaeta," Adama said with a ghost of a smile. He leaned in, elbows on his knees. Felix looked at him blearily.

"You shaved your mustache," he said.

Adama smiled. "I've been hearing that a lot," he said. But his smile faded quickly. "I've also been hearing a lot about your time on New Caprica."

Felix closed his eyes.

"Sam Anders has a theory, and maybe we can get to the validity of it with one question. How did you let them know there was a message?"

Felix opened his eyes. He wasn't surprised, not really, but the words sent a warm, painless shock through his whole system. "There was a yellow dog bowl," he said. "By the garbage dump. I'd flip it over, and that meant there was a message in the drawer."

Adama smiled. It was a warm, paternal smile that Felix had often seen but so rarely seen directed at him. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that, Lieutenant Gaeta," he said. "And that's all I need to know."

"Sir…" Felix began. He could still see John's face in front of him, twisted in anger and hate. "There's more."

"I imagine there is," Adama said, standing up. "But I know everything I need to know."

Felix reached out for his hand. "Sir… I…"

Adama grasped his fumbling fingers. His hand was strong and warm on Felix's, and as his eyes fixed on Felix's face, they were inestimably kind. "Mr. Gaeta," he said, "I'm sure a lot happened down there. But you did what you could, and it's because of you that we were able to make contact with the ground. Whatever else happened, you are one of the reasons that thirty-nine thousand people escaped New Caprica. And that's all I need to know. So, welcome home, Lieutenant."

He couldn't speak, so he nodded mutely.

Adama smiled one more time, and then let Felix's hand go. "I have to get back to the CIC," he told Felix. "I'll drop down again when I can. Get better- we need you back in the CIC."

"Yes, sir," Felix said. He watched Adama leave.

_That's all I need to know._ He understood what Adama was saying, but it did nothing to relieve the guilt. Felix closed his eyes.

The machines beeped, and he felt a dull ache across his abdomen. His head was heavy, and he felt himself starting to drift again. In some ways, it would have been easier to die, but he had to admit that he was incredibly relieved to be alive and home.

***

Someone was humming again. A different tune this time, one that Felix had never heard before. He opened his eyes, and supposed he shouldn't be surprised to see Anders sitting beside him.

"Hey," Anders said, leaning forward. "You made it."

"Thanks to you, so I hear." Felix's head was foggy, but he'd remembered that much in the day and a half that he'd been awake. He found the controls and began to move the bed into a sitting position. His abdomen protested, but deep breaths got him through it. "Cottle says that you and Jammer pulled me off that street. Thank you."

Anders shrugged. He was holding a deck of cards in his hands, and shuffling them from one hand to the other. "It was Jammer who sent the Centurions away," he said.

"Is he around?"

Anders face darkened. "No. He died in the Exodus," Anders said. But there was something about his face… Anders was lying about how Jammer had died.

"It wasn't because…"

"No," Anders said hastily. "It wasn't because of you."

Felix nodded. "Well," he said finally, when Anders didn't say anything more, "thank you." He thought about it. "How did you know what I did?"

"Jammer," Anders admitted. "He told us after that One shot you. That's why-"

"That's why people were willing to risk their lives for me," Felix said.

"I kind of knew it already anyway," Anders said. "It made sense."

Felix looked away. "Right," he said hollowly. "Why else a One?"

"There are other reasons, I guess," Anders said. "Ellen Tigh was frakking a One."

"I know. She was trying to get the Colonel out of detention."

"Yeah, well… she nearly cost us all everything," Sam said bitterly. "I get frakking them, but she also gave over information about the Resistance."

Felix's head jerked back around. "What?"

"She told the Cylons where we were meeting with Athena," Anders explained. "They almost got us."

"And Ellen?" Felix asked.

Anders face darkened again. "It had to be done."

Felix closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow. He _knew_ that. To be honest, he was surprised he'd managed to escape the same fate himself. But to hear it… to remember Ellen in his tent, crying, and to know that this was the price she'd paid… a tear leaked down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, man," Anders said suddenly. "We shouldn't be talking about this. Not right now."

A great exhaustion swept over Felix. "Guess not." He cast about for another subject. "I'm sorry about Kara."

"Huh? Oh, you didn't hear!" Anders brightened some. "Kara was alive. A Two was holding her prisoner. Some sort of creepy experiment, I guess." The brightness faded from his eyes. "She's back on _Galactica_, but she had a rough time of it."

"I'm sure she did," Felix agreed. "Well, at least that worked out." But the thought of Starbuck escaping the Cylon detention center brought that familiar coldness to his guts again, and he remembered what John had said.

_Some of them cursed your name before they died._ He couldn't even begin to contemplate that. Not because he didn't understand it, but because if he understood right… He couldn't even think about it. But then, John had lied about so much. Who said he didn't lie then, wanting to send Felix into death with nothing but guilt and pain? "Anders?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"If I gave you a list of names, would you be able to tell me if they got onto the ships all right?"

Anders nodded. "I can do that. Who do you want to know about?"

"I'll give you the list next time you visit."

"All right." He tapped the deck of cards into a neat pile. "Do you want to play some Triad or something?"

"Not really," Felix said. "I'm tired."

"All right." Anders stood up. "Cottle said that I shouldn't wear you out, and I probably did," he said, a little sheepishly. "I'd better go."

"Thanks for coming by," Felix said, closing his eyes.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Anders promised, and with a smile and an encouraging hand on Felix's shoulder, he left the room.

Felix waited until he couldn't hear Anders' footsteps anymore, and then opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, ignoring the pain in his abdomen, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The chair Anders had sat in was very near by… he could do this.

Standing was excruciating, but once he was there the pain faded, and he managed the few small steps to the chair quite well. It was another test of willpower to sit, but he did, and opened the drawer in the small nightstand. There was paper there, and a pen. He pulled them out and began to write.

Seventy-seven names. Seventy-seven people that he'd asked John to get out of detention, people that he believed he'd helped save. None of them Resistance, at least, not that he'd known of. Several children, a few elderly, and mothers and fathers, husbands and wives. There had been others, people that John had said were dead. But these were all of the people that John had said were freed. He wrote them all with an unflinching hand, pulling the names from memory.

Seventy-seven of them. When he was done, he folded the list and left it on the nightstand.

***

"You're healing fast," Cottle told him, and he looked pleased. Felix glared at him as he slowly shuffled around the infirmary, but Cottle seemed unaffected. Maybe because death glares didn't mean much coming from someone who could barely keep from mooning everyone he passed. Damn hospital gowns.

"I don't suppose I could get my own clothing back," Felix muttered.

"In a day or two," Cottle said. "The waistbands hit right where you were shot. Let it heal a little more." Felix sighed, and Cottle snorted. "You've got another week at least before I'm letting you go on duty. Not to mention, you've got a nice little morpha addiction going that we have to ease you off." Cottle said it easily, and Felix bristled. "Oh, smooth your feathers," he said. "Most patients who experience a wound of this severity have to deal with some sort of drug withdrawal. We'll ease you off."

Felix nodded. He had to admit he was tired, but it was like some strange energy was pushing him forward. Cottle saw it. "All right," he said. "That's enough walking. Get your ass back in bed before someone has to carry it there."

"Yes, sir," Felix said. He headed back towards his bed, Cottle walking slowly at his elbow.

"Do you want me to help him?"

They both turned to see Anders standing, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. Cottle glanced at Felix, and Felix nodded acceptance. Cottle grunted and moved away, undoubtedly to other patients, and Anders took Felix's elbow.

"Looks like you're doing a bit better," Anders said.

Felix shrugged. "Did you check on those names I gave you?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Yeah," Anders said. His grip on Felix's elbow tightened. "You'd better get back to your bed."

Felix stopped in his tracks. "How many?" he asked.

"Gaeta-"

"How many got back on?"

"Come on. Get into your bed before Cottle kills us both."

"_HOW MANY?_" Felix shouted.

Anders sighed. "Twelve," he said. "Twelve of them made it back into the Fleet."

Twelve. Sixy-five people didn't make it. Sixty-five people that John had killed, using Felix's lists as a guide. The room began to spin, and Felix lurched against Anders.

"What the frak did you do to him?" Felix heard Cottle demanding from far away. He felt himself being moved, and then the bed was under him. Cottle was trying to do something to him; Felix began to bat his hands away.

"Don't," he whispered. "Don't bother."

"Right," Cottle said. He injected something into Felix's arm. "You and I are going to have a talk," he heard Cottle saying, but he was relatively sure he was saying it to Anders. That was confirmed when Cottle pulled the blanket back up over Felix's legs. "You sleep," he ordered. "Although the morpha will take care of that."

He watched them walk away, barely more than two silhouettes, arguing already. It didn't matter. Sixty-five people were dead because of him. Felix wasn't sure how he was going to live with that.

***

When he woke up, Cottle was sitting by his bedside and the cubicle curtains were drawn. Felix blinked at him slowly, and then turned his face away.

"None of that," Cottle said. "I had words with Anders."

"It wasn't his fault," Felix said. "I asked him to tell me."

"That's not what I meant. How the frak did you make it off New Caprica alive?"

"I nearly didn't," Felix pointed out. "I'm sitting here with a bullet hole in my abdomen."

"Right." Cottle lit two cigarettes, and offered one to Felix. Felix waved it away. "It should go without saying, but I'm guessing I need to say it. There's a psychologist over on the _Rising Star_. She'll be over in an hour. You're going to be talking to her."

"I take it that's an order," Felix sighed.

"You'd better believe it." Cottle leaned in. "Look. I'm not even going to pretend I have the first idea of what was going through your head down there, because I'm not a psychologist, and frankly, you need a damn good one. But it doesn't take any sort of genius to figure out you're going to torment yourself about all of it. Whether or not you talk to this doctor, well, that's your decision. But I'm not walking away from this without giving you the choice." He took a long drag off his cigarette. "You've got a long road ahead of you, son. You're not going to be able to do it alone."

Felix thought of Ellen, of Jammer, of Anders. And he thought of John. He looked down at his hands.

Cottle sighed. "I know you're not going to listen to me, but there's going to come a point where you have to forgive yourself. There were twelve people on your list that he let out, and I'm guessing he let them out so you'd believe he was really helping you. And at the same time, it sounds like you stole a hell of a lot of information from him. You did more good than you did harm, and that's worth something."

"The Admiral-" Felix began.

"The Admiral told me that unless I felt whatever I'd learned was a danger to the Fleet now, he didn't want to hear it," Cottle said. "The song of the day is forgiveness. It was a damn good decision on the President's part, and the Admiral wants it carried out."

Felix wanted to protest and argue, but he knew that Cottle wasn't the person to listen to it. So he nodded quietly and laid back on the bed, trying not to think about it. "Am I still allowed to see Anders?" he asked.

Cottle blinked. "Why wouldn't you be?"

Felix shrugged.

Cottle stood up. "Next time he comes in, I'll tell him you asked for him. And if you want someone to stay with you right now, I'll set one of the orderlies on you. But I need to get back to work."

"I'm fine," Felix said distantly. "I'd rather be alone right now."

"All right." Cottle stood up and left, but not before clapping a sympathetic hand on Felix's shoulder.

Felix closed his eyes, the vortex in him threatening to rise up and swallow him, overwhelming him. There was a part of his brain that was clicking through the rationale, reminding him that yes, the good he'd done outweighed the bad. And that John had played the game just as deftly as Felix had done, but in the end, Felix had been the winner.

It didn't really help, but the mantra lulled him back to sleep.

***

Eventually, things settled down. They had to, or he would have had to put a gun to his head. He healed, and he found his routine and his place again. Duty blues, the CIC, endless shifts and the DRADIS. Tech manuals, commands, and tactics, just as life had been before. He threw himself back into it, and the work sustained him through his days.

But the image of John- the memory of him- lingered in places where Felix didn't expect it. Not just in the scar on his abdomen, but in the corners of his mind, in his bed, and when he bent over a ream of papers. He couldn't hide from it, couldn't quite escape it, no matter how much he tried.

One day he went down to the chaplain's office, drawn by a force he didn't quite understand.

The office hadn't really changed. They'd found a new chaplain for the _Galactica_ after Brother Cavil had been revealed to be a Cylon, way back in the days before New Caprica. Felix couldn't even remember the man's name; he'd only attended one or two services. But this chaplain had been a lot more fire and brimstone and scrolls and the divine right of Laura Roslin, and that was something that Felix could never believe in at all. He'd left the gods again, and hadn't attended a service since Brother Cavil was preaching.

The door opened behind him, and Felix turned. The chaplain was preaching, he'd expected to be alone. But Anders was standing on the threshold, watching Felix with solemn eyes.

"Thought I saw you come in here."

"You were following me?" Felix asked.

"No. But I was looking for you." Felix nodded. "I didn't know you're religious," Anders continued awkwardly.

"I used to be," Felix said, looking around the room. "A long time ago. But fat lot of good the gods have ever done me." He glanced back at Anders. "Are you?"

"Me? Not really. I mean, I think there's something out there, guiding us, but a bunch of gods using us like chess pieces? Nah."

Felix nodded.

"Listen," Anders said, "there's something I've been meaning to hand over to you, but I figured it should wait until you were better." Felix raised his eyebrows, and Anders continued on. "Remember how I told you that I went into your tent and got some of your stuff before the Exodus?" Felix nodded. "Well, when I was there, I found this on the bed." He handed Felix a small wrapped package.

"What is it?" Felix asked, taking it curiously. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

"Not a clue," Anders said, "but I figured that you didn't know, either. That's why I waited."

Felix unwrapped it, and two chess pieces and a piece of paper tumbled out. A black bishop and a white knight. He stared at them for a long moment, and then unfolded the piece of paper.

_Check, but not checkmate. We will see each other again. –JC_

He swallowed hard, staring at the note.

"You okay?" Anders asked.

"Not really," Felix said, slipping the pieces into his pocket. He crumpled the note in his hand tightly. "But it doesn't matter."

"Yeah," Anders agreed. He opened the door. "Hey, listen. I'm not doing anything right now. Do you want to go get a drink?"

Felix thought about it for a minute, and then nodded. "That sounds good. And Anders?"

"Yeah?"

"I never said thank you for everything you did for me down there."

"Yeah, you did. What you risked and what you pulled off… believe me when I say that was thanks enough, Gaeta."

"Felix."

Anders nodded. "Sam."

"Right." Felix pulled himself up, feeling the chess pieces in his pocket. "Somehow, I just don't think…" he trailed off, looking around the office one more time.

Anders smiled sadly. "Don't think at all," he said. "Let's go drink away New Caprica. It's the only way it's ever going to disappear."

They left the office, the hatch closing behind them with a heavy, echoing, final sort of sound. Felix just wished he could see that as symbolic.

_We will see each other again. _

The idea chilled him, and he knew that if that ever happened, if that day ever came… he'd have a gun in his hands and he wouldn't hesitate to use it. Sixty-five people deserved that. _He_ deserved that, that vengeance on John. If they ever saw each other again, they wouldn't be looking to each others' eyes and remembering nights on New Caprica, and remembering something that was twisted and brutal, but had some element of truth to it as well.

But gods help him, but a tiny part of him wished that they would.


End file.
